


Sympathy for the Devils

by An_October_Daye



Category: RWBY
Genre: Adam Taurus Being an Asshole, Eventual Bumblebee, F/F, F/M, Gen, Redemption for the White Fang, Sienna Khan Lives, Team CFVY Needs More Screen Time, Velvet Scarlatina is Adorable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-19 08:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 85,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22341097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_October_Daye/pseuds/An_October_Daye
Summary: [SI/OC]Knowing what's yet to pass does not always mean you can prevent it. Sometimes it means you're stuck watching as everything you feared happens anyway.I already failed to save Adam Taurus from himself. I don't deserve a second chance... but it looks like I get one anyway. I don't remember everything. But maybe... it's enough. Maybe I can use what I know, save the White Fang, and stop the monster Adam's become.Oh. And help save Remnant while I'm at it.
Relationships: TBA - Relationship
Comments: 28
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

_“Don’t do it Adam,” I warned, peering through the slats of my mask and holding a gloved hand out in front of me. I had one knee down on the snow-covered ground, Fang and Claw shrunk-down and slung across my back, heavy with unspent Dust cartridges. Not a few paces away lay an SDC private contractor, his rifle jammed, his winter camo marred by a single streak of blood. Perry backed away behind me, one hand pressed tightly to the wound on her arm—the source of the red on the contractor’s fatigues—and glaring with hate in her eyes._

_It was a quick operation, Sienna had promised. In and out, little noise, no casualties, but come prepared. That’s the only reason it had gotten the green light._

_They’d been waiting for us. Three of ours were dead, the SDC’s men had been repelled, and now Adam—_

_Adam stood over the one contractor unlucky enough to be caught away from his comrades, Wilt raised high overhead a backhand grip._

_“He_ deserves _it!” Adam hissed, his remaining good eye barely visible through the slats of his Grimm mask. “They all do!_ All _of them!”_

_“He’s not a threat!” I yelled back, getting up from my knee and creeping forward. Adam jerked his head slightly in my direction, and I froze. “Blake!” I yelled at where my sister stood, a few paces away from Adam. “Please, get him to stop!”_

_“H-he…” Blake stammered, eyes wide. Frozen. She was too young for this, I thought as my heart clenched painfully. She was_ twelve _. “N-Noah, I—“_

_“Death to the human!” Adam hissed, voice tight. “Death to the SDC!”_

_Adam brought the blade down, and—_

“Gah!” I jerked awake. A moment later I came back to myself, pulling my claws back in from where they popped out and inspecting my bedsheets for damage. Damn it; there, a sizable gash. I’d be fixing that one up myself later today; in the words of Kali Beladonna: “Oh no Ghira, it’s not the help’s or the guards’ fault that you can’t keep your claws contained; it’s _yours_ , so _you_ get to fix it, and that goes for you too Noah!”

It was always that nightmare this time of the month, I reflected. Every time Blake was due to call, the same dream. The same vision of a decade of failure.

The culmination of all my failures to pull my brother in all but blood off of the slippery slope.

But forewarned doesn’t always mean forearmed. Sometimes, it just means you get to watch, important and powerless, as everything falls apart exactly how you knew it would. Sometimes it just means you don’t get to do anything but stand there and watch as the gods themselves let you, personally, know that despite all your carefully laid plans, you never had a chance. Not really, anyway.

In the past nearly-four years, I’d almost come to terms with that fact. That didn’t make it hurt any less to constantly be reminded of it.

“Noah, sweetie?” Mom called out from behind the door. “Are you awake?”

“We both know you could tell the second I was up, Mom,” I said back. The door to my room slid open, and she stepped inside, resplendent in her glory. Life on Menagerie had been mostly kind to her—but I could see the shadows in her gaze, the worry lines on her face. I was the only one in our family that had heard from Blake in the past few years, and even then, it was still just one Scroll call per month.

Her daughter was growing up, and she wasn’t there to see it. None of us were.

“The same dream again?” She gracefully ignored my (admittedly snide) statement as she glided into the room, taking a seat on the corner of my bed.

“Of course,” I said with a heavy sigh. “I thought I’d been able to get through to him. But the more I think about it, I’m not sure I ever had a chance. He was like a brother to me, and…” I shook my head. “I’m not sure he felt the same way.”

A moment passed between us. Mom came over and ran her fingers through my hair a little bit, and I admit I leaned into her touch a fair bit.

“Look at you, seventeen and still constantly wanting more pets,” she said. “It’s too bad you finally got the purring under control, you were _so_ cute.”

“M-mom!” I said and pushed her hand away, affronted.

“Breakfast’s downstairs honey, and I set the tea to steep before I came up here.” She went to the doorway and paused. “Your father also said to let you know that _she_ called ahead, and will be by to pick you up half an hour earlier than usual. I’m not sure why, but you know how _she_ is.”

I frowned. I did indeed know how Sienna Khan was. She and my parents may have been on the outs with each other since the White Fang fell under her leadership and _changed_ , but I still had fond memories of the woman who babysat Blake and me, and who taught us to fight. I know Mom’s opinion of her soured four years ago… I mean, I know what she’s become—and moreover, I have the perspective and points of comparison to see _exactly_ how much of an extremist she and the rest of the Fang were on track to become.

But it was almost impossible for me to think ill of the woman that I first met as the disgruntled teen who _changed my diapers_.

“What kind of tea?” I asked Mom, focusing on the truly important questions.

“Darjeeling!” She answered before heading down the steps.

_Yes!_

*** * * * ***

Ten-thirty in the morning arrived, and I stood at the docks of Menagerie’s Shallow Sea, working up a light sweat in the tropical climate, and the weight of two gunblades hanging from my back wasn’t helping matters. That said, I had an hour’s journey across the channel to Anima ahead of me, and it was going to be more than a little cold; I’d rather be sweating a little bit now than be freezing and catch a cold later.

I watched the small dot on the horizon grow larger as it approached, eventually resolving itself into the familiar visage of Sienna Khan, piloting a small speedboat to the docks. There was the usual slight furor and clamor as she pulled closer—some in Menagerie deliberately tried to get to the docks on the tenth of every month just for a glimpse at Sienna, and she milked every second of it to recruit and proselytize for the White Fang—but this wasn’t the usual eleven o’clock crowd.

We were early today, and I was a bit apprehensive because of it.

“Sienna,” I said coolly as she pulled the boat alongside the dock for me to hop on board.

“Noah,” she responded. I suppressed the urge to flinch; normally, her tone was warm, but firm. Today, it was stern and tense. Something was wrong, I could feel it in my gut. But first, there was something to get out of the way.

“I don’t suppose I could change your mind about rejoining the White Fang?” She asked, but it was clear her heart wasn’t in it; she spoke as if it was a trite, rehearsed statement. “A Faunus of your capabilities would always be welcomed back to the Fang with open arms.”

“I’m afraid I have to decline,” I said, my tone equally as flat and rehearsed. “I’m afraid I disagree too much with the current direction of the White Fang to ever rejoin. Maybe down the line, but as it stands, I must refuse.” I smirked. “For the _forty-third_ time. It’s good to see you, Sienna,” I said, hopping aboard and leaning down to hug the tiger-woman in front of me.

“The feeling is mutual, Noah,” she said. “And you know I have to ask.”

“Then you’ll keep being disappointed,” I said.

“You are too much like your father, I swear,” she groused, though it was a good-natured thing. “Push us off, will you? We’ve no time to lose.”

I did, and she guided us out of Menagerie’s harbor, though not without a longing look at the fish market. A moment later and a kick of the small speedboat’s motor, and we were off.

“Why the rush this morning?” I asked after about five minutes, once the waves started getting a bit choppier. At the same time, Sienna and I traded positions; she set up in the main body of the speedboat while I worked rudder and steered. She took the opportunity to reach between the benches and pull out a small bundle, which unfurled with a flick of her wrist into a large bow, with a fishing line attached to the bolt already nocked in it leading back to the speedboat.

Hey, we had to make the trip every month; she may as well try to get an extra something productive out of it, and Sienna was a _very_ accomplished bow-fisher at this point. That said, watching her fumble with different methods and implements on the earliest trips was _hilarious_. I still remember when she speared a shark and it dragged her into the water.

She was more unhappy about getting drenched than losing the spear. Cats, am I right?

“A possible complication,” she said. “You know your sister’s monthly reports?”

“I hope the question’s rhetorical,” I yelled over the motor and the waves.

“Pull up on the throttle a little bit,” she ordered, drawing back on the bowstring and taking aim. “And you know what I meant Noah, don’t play as dumb as your father sometimes acts.”

I bristled at the accusation, but did as she asked. Silence persisted for about three minutes as she scanned the waters and lined up her shot, and then in a flash, Sienna fired the bow. The arrow sunk beneath the waves, before _something_ jerked the line—and the speedboat.

“Gun it.” I complied, and as the boat began to move, Sienna methodically tugged the line back in, one length at a time. “There’ve been disparities between the digests you give from your sister’s calls and what my men tell me.”

“Are you _accusing_ Blake of something?” I said, my hackles rising. I wasn’t about to start anything though, and we both knew it; good as I’d become with both Fang and Claw and my bare hands, Sienna could still take me with one hand tied behind her back _and_ blindfolded. I could try as hard as I like, but I wasn’t anywhere near besting the woman who’d taught me just about everything I knew about fighting.

“I would very much rather that be the case,” Sienna answered, with total sincerity in her voice. The honesty of her answer caught me off guard, and brought me up short in more ways than one. “Why did you stop the throttle?”

“Sorry,” I murmured, gunning the engine again. “So you’re worried that somebody in the Vale chapter is lying.”

“Yes,” Sienna said bluntly. “And I would much rather it just be that your sister is sugarcoating things to keep you from worrying—pull up!”

I did as she asked. With a whip, a _heave_ , and a final tug on the fishing line, Sienna pulled her catch out from beneath the waves. A _huge_ tuna burst forth from beneath the ocean waters.

“Now!”

I leapt out of the boat and towards the fish, grabbing hold of its tail in my right hand. Then with my left, I pulled Fang off the magnetic bar holding it to my back and fired a Dust cartridge, using its recoil to throw me and the tuna back to the boat. I landed hard with one foot in the well and one on the bench, and Sienna grabbed the two tails on the back of my jacket to bring my momentum to a dead halt.

“Big fish,” I remarked, then bashed the tuna’s head with the flat of Fang until it finally stopped moving; better to not cut up the meat.

“Indeed,” she said. “Though we’ll have to wait until you’re back in Menagerie to butcher it.”

“I’m guessing there’s a reason you’re not just going to do it while I call Blake this time?”

“I need to listen to your call this time,” she revealed. “And I want you to listen in on mine with my lieutenant. I’d rather have some confirmation that I’m not just being paranoid.”

I wanted to disagree. Sienna may have known Blake and me all our lives… but these conversations were private. That said, if she was right, and somebody _wa_ s selectively hiding information from her, then her concerns about having a second set of ears—well, third in her case—was valid.

“Okay,” I said. “I don’t like it, but I understand your reasons.”

“Thank you, Noah,” she said. “Truly.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” I said with a grimace, and gunned the throttle. What Sienna had revealed opened up a gnawing pit of worry deep in my gut. I don’t want to believe that Blake had been lying to me.

But at the same time, the rational part of my mind told me that it would be better if she was, because the alternative was infinitely worse.

And deep down, I already knew who was telling the truth here. I just didn’t want to see it. Not yet.

**\-------**

Once we got to shore, Sienna tied the speedboat onto the ramshackle dock the White Fang had made a few years back, several miles down the coast from the nearest major, _human_ settlement. We were perfectly in range of the CCTS from right here, and I don’t think either of us wanted to delay the conversation we knew we needed to have with our people. With that in mind, I pulled out my Scroll and reset it, letting it pick up the world-wide CCT signal instead of just Menagerie’s isle-wide network. The instant my Scroll connected, a barrage of notifications came in: e-mails, text messages, missed calls, all from the past six days, and all with the same address: Blake Belladonna.

My heart sunk. Something had happened, and I wasn’t there for her.

I clicked over to open my Scroll’s voice and video call application, but right as I did so, an incoming video call took over the screen. It was from Blake.

I picked up immediately.

_“—ot time yet but please somehow pick u—“_

“Blake!” I yelled into the Scroll. On the other end, Blake shrieked and dropped her Scroll. Had the situation been different, I may have done my brotherly duty and poked fun at her a tiny bit for the sudden reaction, but the sheer _quantity_ of missed calls and messages had me thinking that would have been not just a bad idea, but in poor, poor taste.

 _“N-Noah, oh thank the gods you’re finally—I, I mean i-it’s good to see you!”_ Blake visibly tried to compose herself on the other end, but I could clearly see it was a wasted effort. Frankly, she looked _terrible_. Her ears were twitching back and forth on a swivel, as though she was trying to keep something from sneaking up on her. She had massive bags under her eyes, and her usual eyeliner and eye shadow was nowhere in sight. Normally I’d be happy that my little sister wasn’t prettying herself up, but something told me the reasons for that had less to do with coming to her damn senses and more to do with why she looked like the bogeyman was about to jump out from under her bed.

“... Blake, answer me honestly,” I said, and I could see her gulp on the other end. “Are you okay?”

 _“... n-no,”_ she said. _“I, I’m n-not, a-and I, I…”_ she trailed off.

“Take your time,” I said. I made a small gesture to Sienna, and she pulled out her own Scroll, opening up its recording app and starting it up.

 _“... you’re gonna hate me,”_ Blake said. _“Y-you’re gonna be angry, and disappointed, a-and—“_

“Blake,” I interrupted her. “I promise, nothing you could possibly say would ever make me—“

 _“I killed somebody!”_ She yelled. On the other end of the video call, she started crying, her shoulders shaking and hiccuping as the tears came. _“I… I_ killed _s-someone, Noah.”_

“... oh,” I said, my heart plummeting. “Oh, _Blake_ …”

 _“I, I didn’t have a choice!”_ She said, her voice plaintive. _“She was aiming a gun at me, a-and my Aura was almost empty… a-and it all happened so fast, I just pulled the trigger, and she—h-her blood it just—oh_ gods _, I, I—“_

“Blake,” I said, voice stern but firm. She paused, her sobs quieting a bit. “Listen to me. If your Aura was going to break, then it was in self-defense. You did _nothing wrong_ ,” I told her. A voice in the back of my head scolded me for lying to my sister; it was in self-defense, but only in that either she had to shoot or die herself. She shouldn’t have even _been_ in a situation where she could have been hurt, let alone _killed_ , and if I _ever_ got my hands, or gods forbid my _claws_ on Adam again…

 _“... do you really mean that?”_ Blake asked, her ears drooping low in what I think was shame.

“Blake, nothing you _ever_ did could make me stop loving you,” I answered honestly. It was sappy, but I think that in this moment, she needed some reassurance. “Just answer me this: if there had been _any_ other way in that instant, any at all, would you still have killed her?”

 _“No!”_ Blake answered immediately. _“Gods, no, if there had been_ anything _else I… I wish there had been something else.”_ She got quiet at the end. _“I never wanted to hurt anybody. I just… I just want us Faunus to not have to_ fight _for what humans just_ get _. A-and Adam said the same thing you did, really, but… but I, I needed to hear it from you.”_

“I know Blake,” I said. “I get it. Just… I know you’re not going to like this suggestion, but I want you to remember how this feels.”

_“W-what do you mean, Noah?”_

“I want you to remember how you felt when you killed someone. How horrible it was. How much it’s torn you up. Whenever you’re in a position where you might have to kill somebody, I want you to remember how you feel right now and ask yourself: ‘is there any other way?’”

Blake looked pensive for a moment, and then she sighed.

_“I wish you’d come with us, Noah. I miss you. But something like this… this is why you left the Fang, isn’t it?”_

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s exactly why I left. I just… wish you hadn’t had to find out for yourself, and not this way either.” I paused for a moment, collecting myself. “I miss you Blake,” I said. “And I _really_ wish I could actually just _be there_ for you, especially right now. It’s just that… I just—“

 _“I know,”_ she said. _“I… yeah. I think, now more than I ever have before, I understand why. I love you, Noah. Tell Mom and Dad I love them too.”_

“I love you too, Blake. And of course I’ll let them know.”

Blake gave me a tired smile and ended the call.

“I was aware that Belladonna had seen some live fire, but not to this extent,” Sienna said, shutting off the recording app on her Scroll. “And from what she said, things seem to be escalating… which I should have _heard_.”

“Frankly, I don’t think I like what you’re implying,” I said.

“If you think I’m implying that the Vale chapter of the Fang might be going rogue, then no, I don’t either.” Sienna pulled up her Scroll’s contacts and picked an entry seemingly at random. It dialed for two rings before the person on the other end picked up.

 _“Lady Khan,”_ he said.

“Gorm,” Sienna greeted. “How has Vale been treating the White Fang this week.”

 _“Unremarkable,”_ he said. _“Boring even. We ambushed an SDC convoy, no casualties on either side, and managed to replenish our operating costs and supplies of Dust for the next month. Seventeen new recruits, four with unlocked Auras, but only two of them have any training. Tukson’s network is saying that anti-Faunus policies are decreasing among small businesses, but that large chains with franchises in Vale are barring Faunus from the premises. High Ruler, do you have any suggestion on how to proceed?”_

“If it’s only the large chains, then targeting their suppliers has potential, so long as you scout them out beforehand and make sure the local businesses aren’t affected by the strike. If we show that pro-Faunus local businesses prosper while anti-Faunus chains suffer, then the bean counters will change their tune on their Faunus policy, if only for the sake of their profit margins.”

 _“But how will that improve Faunus rights?”_ Sienna’s lieutenant—Gorm—asked.

“It won’t in the short term,” she admitted. “But in the long term, _as long as_ casualties are kept to the bare minimum, people will forget _why_ the Faunus policies were changed and come to accept it as the new normal.” Sienna’s tone softened. “We’re not going to be able to change peoples’ opinions overnight, Gorm. People who hate Faunus now aren’t going to change just because they see more Faunus at the places they frequent. But once people accept that the mingling of human and Faunus is _normal_ , they’ll start to ask about the places that _do_ prohibit it.”

 _“... I see.”_ There was a pause on the other end. _“I do not have anything else to report at this time.”_

“And just to confirm,” Sienna asked. “What is the total casualty count since we spoke last week?”

_“None, Lady Khan. The past week was bloodless.”_

“I see. Until next week, Gorm.”

_“High Ruler.”_

She ended the call, and the two of us shared a glance.

“We both know who was telling the truth here,” she said. “A reaction like Blake’s isn’t something that you can just _fake_.”

“Which means that your lieutenant—somebody you have trusted beyond reproach for how long now, exactly?” I asked.

“Gorm joined only a month before you and Adam did your father’s White Fang, but is originally from Vacuo,” Sienna said.

“And now, he’s lying to your face.” I tried to hide how much that statement worried me, but there was no masking the dismay I was feeling at the moment. And from the way Sienna was shaking, her teeth bared and ears pinned flat against her head, there was no mistaking the disappointment, fury, and sheer sense of _betrayal_.

“I do not know when, and I do not know to what extent,” she bit out through gritted teeth, “but it would seem the Vale chapter of the White Fang has started to go _rogue_.”

“So what do we do?” I asked.

“First, you let me finish contacting the other chapters,” Sienna said, preparing to walk away. “I need to put them on alert to determine how much of the Fang has gotten away from me. And then, I need to get somebody in Vale, and in a manner that won’t arouse suspicion. Somebody I trust beyond reproach, even more than my lieutenants in the Fang. Somebody who won’t hesitate to tell me the raw truth or disagree with me, somebody like Ghira, or…”

Sienna trailed off, then looked at me. Her eyes flicked to where my twin gunblades, Fang and Claw, hung on my back.

Uh-oh. I have a _bad feeling_ about this.

“Tell me, Noah Belladonna.”

Sienna Khan stalked towards me, looking every inch the tiger whose ears crowned her head, whose tattooed stripes adorned her arms. In that instant, she was the huntress of the savannah, and it took every inch of mettle to not back down, even before a woman a full head shorter than I was.

“Have you ever considered becoming a huntsman?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Yes,” Ghira Belladonna—my father—said.  
  
“... and I would understand if—wait, yes?”  
  
“Yes,” he said, stepping out from behind his desk to clap a hand onto Sienna’s shoulder. And her upper arm, I noted with some amusement. “If my son agrees.”  
  
“H-he has,” Sienna said, clearly taken somewhat aback by this development. “Ghira… may I ask why?”  
  
“I know that we haven’t exactly… seen eye to eye in the past few years,” he said, giving me the side-eye when I couldn’t help but snort derisively at the euphemism, “and I may disagree with the direction that you’ve chosen to take the White Fang. But no matter what happens, or what decisions you make, you will always be my protege, Sienna.” He grimaced. “And at the same time… I cannot help but feel slightly responsible for Adam’s current state. If I can help in some way—even by doing something as utterly inconsequential as letting somebody _else_ help in my stead—then I owe it to the boy Adam Taurus used to be to at least try.”  
  
“I notice you did not mention your daughter,” Sienna said. And at that, my father’s face fell.  
  
“If what you told me is true, and I have no doubts that it is… then I have failed Blake more profoundly than I ever thought possible,” he said, and before my eyes, my father seemed to age ten years in an instant. “At times, I feel that I should _never_ have allowed her to remain with the White Fang—with _Adam_. But at the same time…” He shook his head. “Blake would have hated me. And yet, I fear that by standing aside and letting my daughter seek her own path, that I have cost her something far more precious—her innocence.”  
  
“I too bear some of the responsibility,” Sienna said. “Had I been more attentive to the deterioration of the Vale chapter…” she shook her head. “No. I cannot dwell on maybes and what-ifs. What’s done is done, and I cannot simply _undo_ it, no matter how much I will it.”  
  
“Leadership has earned you wisdom,” Dad said in a rumble. “Would that the cost were not so high… but that is sometimes the nature of wisdom. The experiences that grant it to us are often precisely the time when it would have been most useful.”  
  
“Indeed,” Sienna agreed. “So… how do we do this?”  
  
“If by _this_ , you mean ‘insert Noah into Vale in a manner that won’t arouse suspicion’, then your suggestion of Beacon Academy has merit.”  
  
“By _this_ , I meant ‘getting Noah into Beacon Academy in the first place’,” Sienna answered. “I somehow don’t think that the word of the leader of a group publicly considered as violent protesters, and likely in Vale escalating to ‘domestic terrorists’, will carry much weight.”  
  
“As much as I do not want to disparage you,” Dad started, “I agree with you on that one. _However_ …” He smirked and reached behind him, pulling a piece of thick stationery from his desk. “I do believe the word of the _Chieftain of Menagerie_ will bear some weight, even if in regards to his son.”  
  
I reached to take the paper, but Sienna got to it before me, scanning its words furiously before looking up.  
  
“Menagerie doesn’t _have_ a Grimm problem,” she said, “it has a _deadly local wildlife_ problem.”  
  
“I know that,” he said. “But do you think anyone outside of _Menagerie_ knows that?” All of us paused, before identical sneers spread across our faces. There were very, _very_ few times that I allowed myself racist or bigoted thoughts towards Remnant’s human population. But the sheer refusal of the overwhelming majority of humans, including huntsmen, to even _visit_ Menagerie spoke volumes about them.  
  
“What about transcripts?” I asked. “Beacon is a school, and more than that, it’s _a huntsman academy_. They’re looking for combat school transcripts, and I don’t _have_ those.”  
  
“There _is_ a way to get something similar without attending a dedicated combat school,” Sienna added in. “The four major academies all have combat trials, for those applicants who wish to attend, but have trained privately or with family as opposed to in a combat school. The trials for Beacon are set to occur in Vale in…” Sienna pulled out her Scroll and clicked it a few times. “Two weeks.”  
  
“And what do those entail?” I asked. “I mean, I’m agreeing with this plan—I’m sorry Dad, I love you and Mom, and I love my home, but I have been feeling just a little bit stir-crazy on Menagerie these past few months.”  
  
“I understand completely,” Dad said, though his smile was sad. “I will adjust to an emptier house in time.”  
  
“I’m sorry to interrupt the family moment, but we aren’t going to leave for Vale for another two days,” Sienna said. “There are some preparations to be made first. As for the combat trial, if Tukson’s information is accurate—“  
  
“Which it _always is_ ,” I interjected, much to my father’s amusement.  
  
“As I was _saying_ ,” Sienna said, fixing me with a glare, “it will be against a pair of captured Grimm, and the professor responsible for capturing them in the first place, a Professor Peter Port.” She frowned. “Per the Vale chapter, the man has a reputation as a braggart, but everyone who’s seen him in action has stated that he more than backs up his boasts. You are expected to prevail against the Grimm, but only _survive_ against Port.”  
  
I grimaced. Grimm were one thing… but a trained Huntsman with a reputation for his mouth writing huge checks that his body _can_ cash?... that was something else entirely.  
  
“What about my Semblance?” I asked. “How much… well, _detail_ do I need to provide?”  
  
“Whether you’ve discovered it and, if you have, its name,” Sienna replied. “So you can keep what you’re truly capable of under wraps. You _can_ volunteer more information—“  
  
“But you advise against it. Alright,” I said. “So. I leave in two days. What do I have to do in the meantime, other than get packed?”  
  
“Well,” Dad said, something between a smirk and a grimace on his face. “You need to figure out how to tell your mother.”  
  
Suddenly, a cold pit opened in the bottom of my stomach.  
  
“... _shit_.”  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
“Oh, my baby boy’s leaving me!”  
  
“M-mom…” I wanted to protest her hugging me, I really, really did. But it was the morning of my departure, and nobody, absolutely _nobody_ , was fool enough to try and get between Kali Belladonna and bidding her son a fond farewell. “Please, this is just a _little_ embarrassing!”  
  
“And what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t embarrass my son at least a little bit?” She gave me a soft smile, but it was tinged with worry, and that bled into her gaze. “I wish I could make you stay, but after hearing your conversation with Blake…” She shook her head. “If I didn’t have obligations here in Menagerie, I would join you in a heartbeat, and I know your father would too. But…” she sighed.  
  
“Duty calls,” I said, pulling her in closer. “I can’t promise I’ll take care of Blake. I’m not even sure where in Vale she is, much less what she’s doing. But I can promise I’ll do everything I can to keep track of her, and keep her safe… and I promise to take as good of care of myself as possible.”  
  
“That’s all I ask,” she said kindly. “I made sure to pack a tea set, and tins of all your favorites. At least that way, you can have a little taste of home.”  
  
“Did you remember the cocoa powder and coffee beans as a ‘gift’ for reviewing my application?” I asked.  
  
“Of course I did,” she said, and I found myself on the receiving end of a Kali Belladonna Piercing Stare, patent pending. “Who do you take me for, your father?”  
  
“I _would_ object to that,” my father said in response, coming up behind my mother and carrying my suitcases in his hands. “But, I’m afraid it’s more accurate than I’d like to admit.” He put a hand on my shoulder, and pulled me from my mother’s embrace and into his. “I’m sorry for making you clean up my mess, Noah. Mine _and_ Sienna’s.”  
  
“It’s not your fault,” I told him. “It’s… if the blame belongs to anybody, then it’s to Adam.”  
  
He sighed.  
  
“Take care of yourself out there, Noah. I know it’s hard to get word to Menagerie, but all the same… do your best.”  
  
“I will Dad,” I said. “I promise.”  
  
The small ship behind us blared its foghorn as the captain, a human who’d actually married a Faunus and had publicly stated his intention to relocate permanently to Menagerie once he’d retired, gave me the signal to hurry up and get my ass on board.  
  
“Off you go!” Dad said, handing me my bags and pushing me towards the boat. “You’ll be in our thoughts.”  
  
“And you’ll be in mine.” After one final wave, I picked up my bags and walked the gangplank onto the ship.  
  
“All set boy?” The yacht’s captain, one Captain Bluefog, asked.  
  
“I’m all set,” I replied. “Let’s get to Vale.”  
  
“Passenger cabin’s all yours, feel free to go and settle in.” He untied the rope tying us to the dock, and with a quick kick, we were off. “It’s a two day journey to Vale, so get comfortable. And for the love of the Brother Gods, if you get seasick, make sure to toss your sick overboard?”  
  
“I make no guarantees on that last one,” I admitted, “but I’ll give it my best shot.”  
  
“S’all I ask,” Captain Bluefog said.  
  
And with that, we set sail for Vale.  
  
… huh, that rhymed.  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
You would think that two weeks was a long time. Trust me when I say that no, it’s not. It’s really, really not.  
  
First, though. Let me just say that Lady Sienna Khan, High Leader of the White Fang, was nothing if not thorough. Using Tukson as a middleman, she managed to secure me a… well, either a short-term studio apartment or a long-term hotel room for the duration of my time in Vale, until such point as I (hopefully) got into Beacon and moved into the dorms there. I’d submitted my application the moment I got into Vale (I managed to get CCTS service on Captain Bluefog’s yacht, and filled out the application materials in transit), and gotten my time slot for the combat trials.  
  
And now it was the day of, eleven o’clock. I had two hours to get to Beacon, and once there I was to report to… well, Professor Port. My memories served to be correct; oh dear _lord_ was the man a braggart. But some brief research was enough to prove that every single one of the yarns he spun _actually happened_ , and with quite a bit of proof to back up each and every ridiculous claim in his stories.  
  
The huntsman-vs-huntsman portion of the combat trial was against Professor Port. Against a man who was more boastful than even the snootiest of billionaires in Atlas, and yet could back up _every single one of those feats_ with cold, hard facts.  
  
I was actually scared of the man. Especially since I was going to have to fight him while keeping a _very_ careful hold over how I used my Semblance.  
  
That was another can of worms I did _not_ want to open. The exact mechanics of my Semblance made me too much of a target, even more so than just being a Faunus. Human-passing unless I extended my claws, yes, but still a Faunus. Plus, anybody with a _lick_ of sense would realize that my eyes gave my Faunus heritage away just as much as my claws.  
  
I stepped back and looked at myself in the mirror. Unruly black hair spiked up a bit, framing golden eyes and a serious case of ‘resting bitch face’. A knee-length, deep purple coat the same color as my father’s covered a white shirt, with two white-tipped ties on the back of the coat to tie it shut in case of inclement weather. Dark denim pants led into sturdy boots that came up to just below my knees, and each boot had a knife sheathed in it.  
  
With a final glance at the mirror, I slung Fang and Claw’s folded forms across my back, where they adhered to the magnetic plate in my coat. And now?  
  
Now, it was time to go to Beacon and prove myself.  
  
I just hope I don’t make a _fool_ of myself instead…  
  
  


**\-------**

  
  
“Will examinee four-one-three-seven, please come down!” The man who’d spoken was a… well, _portly_ gentleman, more than a little rotund, and sporting one of the most _magnificent_ mustaches I’d ever seen in my life. I mean, it’s almost impossible to describe the damn thing. It’s just, just… _whoa_. The king of all mustaches.  
  
Examinee 4137 stood up from the seat one row down and two across from my current position. She was a timid thing, long brown hair to about her mid-back, a cute—if oddly shaped—beret on her head, and wearing an outfit that I wasn’t quite sure how to describe. I think that little jacket over her top half was a… bolero? Was that the word? It was a dark brown bolero with an orange sweater under it, and deep brown pants, wearing flat shoes. She had a surprisingly sturdy camera in hand, and also what looked to be a simple extending mechashift-staff.  
  
Once she was down on the floor, the professor—Professor Port, I presumed—cleared his throat to get everybody’s attention.  
  
“First, the Grimm!” He pressed a button on his scroll, and across the room, a gate opened. Charging out of the gate, two Boarbatusk bore down the girl, murder in their eyes.  
  
Of all the people in this room, I think she dispatched them the fastest. The mechashift staff came off her back, and instead of growing, a blade sprouted from one end and she wielded it like a sword. With one quick motion, she sliced through _both_ Boarbatusks, killing them with no fanfare. The follow through of her slash brought the sword-staff to her side, almost like it was an iaijutsu stance… but she wasn’t using a katana, was she?  
  
I felt a slight pulling in my gut, and the answer came in a flash of insight. She’d been using her Semblance for that, hadn’t she? If so, then whatever it was… impressive.  
  
She stood up, and adjusted the beret on her head very carefully. Then, she turned to Professor Port, who gave an appreciative nod.  
  
“Good, good! But now…” Professor Port brandished his weapon, a strange cross of blunderbuss and battle axe, and took a ready stance opposite the girl. “Let’s see how you do, hm?”  
  
The girl looked troubled for a bit, then fiddled with her staff. Two blades shot out of the end, and a quick manipulation of the weapon folded the two blades down at the sides… almost like the blades of an axe itself.  
  
And then she took up a stance _identical_ to Professor Port’s.  
  
“Oho? Fascinating, truly fascinating my girl! Why, this could quite possibly be the most interesting match of the day! Ready? Begin!”  
  
In a blur, Port disappeared, his axe bearing down on the girl with frightening speed. She brought her own weapon up in a strikingly similar approach to how Port had blocked another applicant’s strike, and the two weapons clashed before Port _twisted_ his axe, flinging the girl away and to the edge of the arena. She frowned, fiddled with her weapon again, and it sprung out into a spear, a simple leaf-shaped blade crowning the head of a staff.  
  
With the weapon like this, she was _far_ more comfortable, and it showed. She still flowed through the combat forms and styles of applicants that had already gone—I saw a powerful overhead strike that used the haft of the polearm to cover her openings, along with a very careful sweep that use the very tip of the blade to nip at Port’s heels—but the majority of the style was her own. With a more suitable weapon, she was clearly far more comfortable, and held her own admirably.  
  
Until the one minute mark sounded, and Port took it up a notch, pausing just barely for an opening to present itself. Two seconds later, and the girl was out, her Aura down into the red from a disgustingly-fast combined hit of his axe, combo’d into a shot from his blunderbuss.  
  
One motion. That was all it took for him to win.  
  
“Wonderful performance, absolutely wonderful! Yes, I wasn’t wrong when I said that would be the most interesting match of the day, but I dare say it was also the most entertaining so far!” He walked over to the girl and pulled her up, her beret remaining on the floor.  
  
And revealing her rabbit ears to the world.  
  
I felt my eyes narrow. I didn’t have room to talk, I’d admit—I’m mostly human-passing, but to try and hide her Faunus heritage like that spoke ill. Whether it was of her self-confidence or her home situation, I wasn’t sure. But either way… it left a bad taste in my mouth.  
  
This was probably what Blake felt. This, times a thousand, is probably what Adam uses to justify his…  
  
I can’t go down that line of thought. I don’t have the time for it.  
  
“Examinee four-one-three-eight!”  
  
I perked up when my number was called, and made my way down to the arena below. As I passed the rabbit Faunus, I gave her a whispered “great job”, along with what I _hoped_ was a soft smile. From the sudden blush she gave, either I was absolutely successful… or I had failed in ways that are too horrible to consider. Time would tell… though, that also required both of us to get into Beacon.  
  
And now was my chance to show my mettle. I pulled Fang and Claw off my back, the blades flipping out from their folded storage and locking into place, pulling down to slot together with the rest of the weapons.  
  
“First, the Grimm!” Once again, Port pressed a button on his Scroll, and the gate at the far end opened. When that happened, I had to curse the other Faunus for having all the luck.  
  
Because what charged straight out of that gate, bearing down on me with murder in their eyes, was an Ursa and a Beowolf.  
  
I stood my ground, letting the Beowolf’s faster approach carry it ahead of the Ursa, and readied myself. My Semblance leapt at my call, and I waited… waited… _now_.  
  
I leapt upwards, leaving a mirror-image of myself behind for the Beowolf to strike at, overextending as it struck empty air. A pull of Fang’s trigger propelled me back downwards to drag Claw through its neck, decapitating it. One down… but that still left me with an angry Ursa.  
  
It swung at me, and once again I left an illusory double of myself where I stood as I jumped backwards from its strike. Just like the Beowolf, it overextended into empty air, and I took the opportunity to shove Fang into its open maw and pull the trigger.  
  
Ephemeral hate-stuff poured from the opening in the back of its skull, and the Ursa faded, just as the Beowolf did before it.  
  
These were clearly young, young Grimm. That Port had captured them at all was still impressive… but the fact that all it took to kill them was one good, clean hit? That was enough to know that this was only intended to weed out the few people that had no place completing even this smallest of small tasks a Huntsman would be asked to do.  
  
“Hmm, I see, I see,” Professor Port mused. He rubbed at his mustache, which worried me with how different the reaction was to the previous girl’s. “Yes, I get the feeling that while the last fight was the most interesting, yours will be the most… _frustrating_. Ready yourself, young man.”  
  
I turned to face him, Fang drawn, Claw folded back into itself to be an SMG.  
  
“Ready? Begin.”  
  
Port was on me in an instant, coming from overhead again, and only a hasty clone let me duck to the right with room to spare. I leveled Claw in his direction and pulled the trigger, spraying bullets in his general direction, and ran along the outer edge of the arena opposite where Port was. He flipped his axe around and leveled the blunderbuss in my direction, and it was only with a quick pull of Fang’s trigger that I managed to reverse my direction so he didn’t pepper me with Dust shot. He was on me an instant later, and I shifted Claw back to a sword, raising it to meet Port’s axe. The weapons locked, and I did my best to use the man’s size and Claw’s greater reach against him, keeping him just out of range.  
  
Then I retracted Claw’s blade into itself and cut across Port’s torso with Fang, scoring possibly the first hit of the day.  
  
… or I _would_ have, if he hadn’t _grabbed Fang by the blade_ in a vice-grip that I couldn’t rip it free from.  
  
I pulled the trigger to try and shake him loose, but he willingly took a glancing bullet—which, personally, does _not_ count as the first hit on Port of the day, since he stood there and _tanked_ it—and I had to let Fang go, transferring Claw to my left hand as I did.  
  
“What a marvelous weapon this is! A simple enough gunblade, but its construction is quite elegant! What is its name, young man?”  
  
“Fang,” I bit out between clenched teeth, holding Claw in a ready stance. I took the brief reprieve to switch the Dust cartridges in the weapon out and swap its fire from automatic to semi-auto, but I don’t think that was going to be anywhere _near_ enough.  
  
“Hmm, I see.” With a flick of his wrist, he mechashifted Fang back to its ‘sheathed’ state and gently tossed it out of the arena. I suppressed a wince when it clattered on the floor, well out of my range. “Continue.”  
  
I fired a Dust cartridge behind me, using the momentum to close. Port brought his battle-axe up, but another pull of the trigger spun me and brought my strike in a different direction. He parried with the barrel of his blunderbuss, and struck out with a punch, but I substituted myself with a clone at the last second, leaping up and over him. Claw shifted as I aimed down, and fired a bullet—  
  
—straight into the open muzzle of Port’s blunderbuss as its blast took me straight in the face. I felt my Aura drop, and then _plummet_ as Port used the weapon’s trigger as a fulcrum to transition into a slam with the flat of his battle-axe. Just like the other Faunus before me, I went flying into the wall, barely managing to keep hold of Claw as I landed _hard_.  
  
“Yes, I was right that this battle would be frustrating. Those clones of yours are quite the annoying Semblance to deal with, young man. May I ask its name?”  
  
“Copycat,” I said, hiding the smirk at the inside joke.  
  
“Leaving copies of yourself behind… and then catching your foes like the cat that got the canary. Quite clever wordplay there!”  
  
I blinked. No, the cat was because I’m a cat Faunus…  
  
… except I’d never brought out my claws, and as far as everybody else watching was concerned, I was still human. Huh, this man really was smart. Considerate of him.  
  
“A fine showing.” He offered me a hand up, and then pressed Fang into my grasp once he had me up. “I hope to see you at Beacon later next week, young man,” he whispered. “Do try to find the girl that went before you during initiation; your offhand sword would suit well for letting the two of you combo against an unprepared foe.”  
  
I blinked at that. I thought partner assignments were random… or at least, randomized in some form. It was one thing to try and get a specific partner, but it wasn’t really that _feasible_ …  
  
… was it?  
  
“Next, examinee four-one-three-nine!” From the stands, another person stood, this time a blonde girl with wild, untamed hair and wielding an oversized bastard sword with red accents. She had a cocky grin on her face, red lightning sparking off of her form as she passed me on the way down.  
  
Deep in my gut, I felt a pulling from my Semblance.  
  
“G-good job,” I heard as I passed the girl who’d gone before me. She had her beret in her hands, her rabbit ears standing at full attention for the world to see; I wagered she’d keep them uncovered until we were done for the day.  
  
I gave her a tired smile.  
  
“Thanks a dozen.” Then I extended a hand. “Noah Belladonna.”  
  
“O-oh!” She reached out with her right hand, then realized it had the beret in it; I couldn’t help but chuckle at that, though she did eventually get the beret into her other hand and extended her right hand to me again. “I-I’m Velvet. V-Velvet Scarlatina.”  
  
She took my hand, and I gave it a light shake.  
  
“A pleasure,” I said, meaning it.  
  
“D-do you mind if I get a picture?” She asked, and I noticed her accent even as I blushed a bit at the unexpected forwardness.  
  
“O-of me?” I asked.  
  
“A-and your s-swords,” she said, hiding her blush behind her camera.  
  
“Oh!” I said, simultaneously relieved and disappointed. “Here you go.” I pulled both swords off of my back and unsheathed them, holding them up for her to take a picture. I heard the click of her camera go off, and she gave me a brilliant smile after checking to see it came out okay.  
  
“A- _hem_!” Both Velvet and I jumped. “I do so enjoy a good romance novel; the gallantry, the heroics! Not quite as much as myself, but alas! Unfortunately, this is neither the time, nor the place, so if the two of you are _quite_ done flirting, I _do_ have another examinee with me.”  
  
The both of us stammered and blushed at that. Then we sat down…  
  
… pointedly _not_ looking at each other.  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
Port was calling out the names of everybody who’d gone, and giving the results as a group. Most of the applicants—twenty-seven of the thirty-five—had been thanked and asked to leave, but invited to return next year to try again.  
  
But they didn’t matter. All that mattered was whether I got through to the next round.  
  
“Examinees four-one-three-seven through four-one-three-nine!” Professor Port called, and we stood. “Velvet Scarlatina. Noah Belladonna. Moira Redpath. I am pleased to extend to all _three_ of you an invitation to attend Beacon Academy one week from today. I look forward to seeing all of you in—“  
  
“ _Fuck yeah_!” The third of us mentioned, the blonde with the power-up Semblance that presented as red lightning around her—Moira Redpath—pumped a fist and hollered her excitement to the world. “Pops is gonna be _so_ damn proud!”  
  
“A- _HEM_.”  
  
Moira blushed and sat down, but I didn’t really care. I pulled out my Scroll and shot a quick message to Sienna.  
  
 _Phase 1 complete. Proceeding to Phase 2_.  
  
The response came within seconds.  
  
“H-hey, um…”  
  
I turned to the rabbit Faunus—Velvet, I think? I swear, it had only been half an hour, but I’m _horrible_ with names—to see her worrying her beret between her hands.  
  
“What is it?” I asked. She seemed to blush a little deeper and fold in on herself, looking away and at the ground.  
  
“U-um… at the Initiation… I mean, when they partner people up… would you—“  
  
“Sure,” I said, putting a hand on Velvet’s shoulder. “I think there’s some randomness involved… but I’ll do my best.” I held my left hand in front of her, and flashed my claws for an instant. “Strength in numbers, you know?”  
  
“Ah, y-yeah,” she said, that stammer coming out again. I swear, for somebody so _damn_ good in combat… then again, I know Mom is the opposite. Confident as all hell when speaking, and a wreck in a fight. “U-um, c-could I get your Scroll number?”  
  
“Huh? Oh, sure.” I pulled the information up and tapped my Scroll against hers. An instant later, her contact info displayed on my screen.  
  
“T-thank you,” she said. Then, she held her beret out to me. “A-also, i-if it’s not too much trouble, could I get a hand? My current neighbors, t-they… don’t like Faunus t-that much…”  
  
I concealed my frown, and did my best to hide the pity and keep it out of my gaze.  
  
“Sure,” I said.  
  
And in that moment, I felt like, more than ever, I understood why my father’s White Fang hadn’t been enough for Sienna.  
  
Because even after twenty-plus years, girls like Velvet Scarlatina had to hide themselves away to avoid scorn. It was easy to see why they’d changed their methods… and how little effect it was still having.  
  
Because even with everything Sienna—everything _Adam_ had done…  
  
Velvet still had to hide her ears, just to walk to her own home.


	3. Chapter 3

I’d barely— _barely—_ gotten the water boiling when my Scroll rang. I hadn’t even had time to pick out which tea I wanted, let alone start _eating my dinner_.  
  
“I’ll call back once I’m done with my fish and chips,” I said into the Scroll, not even bothering to see who was calling.  
  
 _“... was it from Grayskin’s?”_ I blinked when I heard Sienna’s voice on the other end of the line, and at the oddly specific question.  
  
“Uh… yeah,” I said, looking at the takeaway bag sitting on the counter. The image of a cartoon shark Faunus with teeth practically spilling from his maw, a cartoon fish in each hand, looked back at me. “How did you know?”  
  
 _“Best fish and chips in Vale. Helps that it’s Faunus-run; when even the_ humans _go there, you_ know _it’s good. Enjoy it while it’s hot.”_ With a click, the call ended, and I was left to ponder the amusing reality of the High Leader of the White Fang possibly having a list of the best dives in the four Kingdoms. I should probably ask about sushi places… I would _kill_ for some good mackerel.  
  
Either way, this meant I had a moment to myself. I gathered my thoughts while eating, and got a pot of jasmine tea brewing while I picked up the Scroll and called back.  
  
 _“Any difficulties to report?”_ Sienna skipped the pleasantries and went straight into business.  
  
“Port lives up to the hype,” I said. “Exactly _one_ examinee lasted past the one minute mark, and he took her out in the very next move. It’s brutally obvious he was holding back more than even you do when we spar. Not to insult your capabilities, Sienna, but he’s just on another level entirely.”  
  
 _“There’s no insult in the truth,”_ she replied. _“Would that the Fang understood that, I would have far fewer fires to put out among the leadership. Anyway, what about your performance?”_  
  
“Twenty-seven seconds,” I said with a grimace. “He culled anyone who lasted under fifteen, and allowed anyone over thirty. Anything between there was at his discretion, and he apparently liked what he saw.”  
  
 _“Good.”_ She paused for a moment, studying my expression over the Scroll. _“Noah, I’ve known you long enough to tell when there’s something bothering you.”_  
  
“Port knew I was a Faunus, and gave me an ‘out’ to stay human-passing,” I said, suddenly feeling ashamed. I looked away from the Scroll briefly. “And the girl who lasted the full minute… he told me to seek her out during the Initiation and try to partner with her. She’s… she was hiding her ears under a beret.”  
  
 _“... I see,”_ Sienna bristled.  
  
“Her _rabbit_ ears,” I clarified. As expected, Sienna’s eyes widened before narrowing, her ears pinned low to her skull in anger. “She asked me to help her get the beret back on afterwards. Anti-Faunus neighbors, and no other alternative. Sienna… things like this, it’s part of why you and the rest of the Fang chafed under Dad, isn’t it?”  
  
Sienna sighed. There was something unreadable in that sound.  
  
 _“I sometimes forget how_ sheltered _you really are compared to most Faunus,”_ she said, all traces of the fury I knew she was feeling carefully tucked away. _“Living in the Fang, and then on Menagerie… you haven’t_ really _had to experience the discrimination as badly as most. And being human-passing lessens it for you even further.”_ She frowned. _“He likely suggested you try to partner with her so he could guarantee, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that at least_ one _person at Beacon would treat her with respect, instead of scorn. It also speaks well of this huntsman’s character; I’ll let the Fang know he’s respectable.”_  
  
“Makes sense,” I said. “Next steps? And any word from the Vale chapter?”  
  
 _“Your next scheduled contact with Blake is still two weeks out, and we can’t arouse suspicion that I’m watching them more closely,”_ Sienna warned. _“I know you want to talk to her. In the meantime though, I need you to trust me. I’m shuffling some of the mid-tier officers from the various chapters around; hopefully I can gut Adam’s influence by watering it down. And I’m sending the two most…_ zealous _of his men to Menagerie, and having your father keep a close eye on them.”_  
  
“If you really wanted them watched, you’d have asked my mother to do it instead,” I pointed out.  
  
 _“He already delegated it to her,”_ Sienna revealed, a slight smirk showing that I was, as usual, a step behind her.  
  
“Right. In that case, I’ll continue to lay low. It doesn’t help us if the Fang finds out the other Belladonna is also in Vale.”  
  
 _“And Tukson can keep you apprised of anything you need to know. Oh, he also mentioned that book you were looking for came in.”_  
  
If my Faunus trait had been ears like Blake’s, they’d have perked up at that. Even so, my expression apparently lit up enough for Sienna to chuckle at the change.  
  
 _“You Belladonnas. So predictable.”_ She schooled her expression back into something resembling sternness. _“One week before Beacon. Do your best to prepare; if something arises I’ll keep in touch.”_  
  
“Roger that. Over and out.” With that, I hung up the Scroll call, and poured myself a cup of tea. A quick sip to check for taste… and I grimaced.  
  
I should’ve waited to infuse it until after the phone call. It had steeped too long. Damn. What a waste of good tea...  
  
Sorry Sienna, but I’m putting this on your tab. You’ll understand.  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
It was only after Velvet got inside of the apartment complex proper, and turned the corner so that she was out of view of the street, that she finally felt comfortable taking her beret off. She removed the hat with a sigh of relief, extending her ears straight up before taking them in her hands one by one, massaging the soreness out of them. It was a distasteful thing to have to do, she thought to herself, but compared to the alternative—  
  
“Back already rabbit?”  
  
Velvet stiffened, her breath catching in her throat at the sudden noise. Even though she knew who it was, she still didn’t dare to relax.  
  
“Y-yes, sir,” she said, tone demure. She pulled her hands away from her ear and clasped them in front of her, pinning her ears down and back. Out of sight, hopefully out of mind.  
  
“Hey, don’t go doing that,” her landlord said, walking up with a heavy frown on his corpulent jowls. “I thought you knew by now, ain’t gonna treat you wrong just cause you’re an animal.”  
  
 _And yet you already are,_ the unspoken thought filtered through Velvet’s mind. She already knew that the man—Bordeaux Townsend, the local ‘slumlord’, and one of the only people in this part of Vale that would rent to Faunus—didn’t actively mean anything by the terms he was using. He’d grown up with them, known them to be the _standard_ for referring to Faunus, before the original White Fang managed to get such terms classified as slurs when used with regards to Faunus. But even though he didn’t actively mean any offense with the terms… he still used them.  
  
And it hurt. It hurt more than she knew how to put into words. For all that Townsend was good to the Faunus—unlike the other landlords Velvet had encountered, he didn’t engage in predatory pricing or other scummy tactics—he was still a bigot.  
  
It was casual. It was likely subconscious, and if push came to shove h _e wo_ uld defend her from the less savory elements in the neighborhood. But those didn’t erase his negatives.  
  
Just made them… bearable.  
  
“So, do I still need to start looking for a new tenant?” He asked.  
  
“W-well, I won’t know u-until after the Initiation n-next week,” Velvet said, her hands shuffling around the outside of her beret’s rim. “I d-don’t know if I w-will—“  
  
“New tenant it is then,” he interrupted her. “The cameras have seen you practice, fuzzy. I’ve known a few huntsmen in my day, normal folk and animals alike, and you’re better than most.” He pressed the button on the elevator for Velvet, then turned to head back to the leasing office. “Your last month’s rent is on me. Congratulations, bunny.”  
  
“T-thank you,” she said, unable to meet his gaze. It was kind of him, truly; having some funds extra meant she could continue working on that idea for her camera, maybe even be allowed to _buy_ some hard light Dust if she went to a non-Schnee Dust shop.  
  
But all the same… it left a foul taste in her mouth.  
  
Once in the safety of her apartment, Velvet sighed, setting her staff aside and putting her camera down on the coffee table, frowning at the traces of dust already accumulating on its surface. An apartment in a decent-ish part of Vale this might have been… but Faunus like her weren’t even allowed to _tour_ newer or recently-renovated buildings, let alone actually sign a lease. Not even human-passing ones… like the boy from the trials.  
  
Velvet had known he was a Faunus even before he’d bared his claws—the way the light shone off of his eyes was a dead giveaway to another Faunus—but he still went the extra mile to show her. He wasn’t ashamed of his heritage, even though he was lucky enough to be able to conceal it. At least, that’s what she assumed. His fighting style… it was savage. Even now, she could feel her Semblance leaping at the thought, ready to carry her through forms that could just as easily accommodate the close range of his claws. But it was also calculated. Patient.  
  
She would have to reconfigure her staff, or get lucky with some hard light Dust, but it would make an excellent addition to her arsenal.  
  
And hopefully, next time they met, she could keep her stammering to a minimum… oh, who was she kidding? Velvet sighed, glancing at her beret. It was a crutch, she knew. And it wouldn’t be able to last much longer, not in a place as insular as Beacon. But just for a little longer, she told herself. She just needed one more day of being able to make a first impression as a person first, and a Faunus second.  
  
Just one more day.  
  
That was all.  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
One week had passed in a flash. I’d taken the opportunity to modify Claw a little bit during the intervening week—my style was a little too dependent on having the larger, heavier Fang in my left, and if I got disarmed like Professor Port had done with such ease, I would be hamstrung—by upping its caliber and adding an option to remove the recoil compensation. The entire weapon was a little bulkier as a result (I needed to completely redo the barrel and chamber), but now if I somehow lost Fang, I could sacrifice rate of fire to get Fang’s staying power back. Plus, it wasn’t actually any _heavier_ —mechashift technology is some serious _bullshit_ when you get down to it.  
  
The White Fang had started doing as Sienna ordered; large corporations’ supply chains were under fire, and the very first one to fold and change its anti-Faunus policies—Aomori Bowl, a noodle chain from Mistral—swiftly found that any and all attacks on its suppliers ceased. The only supply chain to suffer any human casualties was, predictably, the one in Vale.  
  
Two of the convoy’s security guards lost their legs.  
  
Sienna put out a statement about the use of force as soon as she heard from Tukson, trying to spin it as an unfortunate accident, but the damage was already done. I found two more stores with new signs on their doors. They weren’t obvious about it, obviously, but it’s pretty obvious who a brand new “we reserve the right to refuse service at our discretion” would apply to. On a whim, I tried going to one of them—a large fried chicken franchise—and only got served after some serious staring and scrutiny… by the _cashier_. Apparently, being pretty much human-passing meant they couldn’t deny me service off of just a suspicion, but by the size (and poor quality, _ugh_ ) of my portion, they clearly saw the way the light reflected off of my eyes, courtesy of what looked like a brand new light fixture above the cashier’s station.  
  
Nothing for it, though. It didn’t matter in the end, because right now I was on a bullhead.  
  
A bullhead that was coming in for a landing at Beacon Academy, filled to the brim with fellow hopefuls.  
  
I glanced around, and frowned at just how _few_ Faunus I could see besides myself. Out of twenty people in the bullhead, there was only one other on here—a reptile or fish Faunus, going by the patches of scales on her arms and face. She sat in a corner of the bullhead, daring anybody to come near her, but I could tell she was aggrieved by the way others were looking at her. I wanted to go over and help, but if the stares of at least half of the bullhead were anything to go by, I would be painting a rather large target on my head that I _did not need_ right now. And unfortunately, Sienna was right; this kind of treatment was, sadly, a fact of life for Faunus outside of Menagerie or the Fang’s enclaves. Just… casual bigotry.  
  
It rankled.  
  
The bullhead came in for a landing, and I was one of the first off the ship. I had a small duffel slung over one shoulder, with a change of clothes, personal care products, Dust, and a maintenance kit for my weaponry. The duffel bumped somebody on the way out, but they didn’t do much more than nudge back against it. Once off, I followed the signs pointing us towards the Initiation, scoping out the competition as I did.  
  
There weren’t many standouts, but the ones there were…  
  
A quartet of obviously Mistrali applicants stood huddled together, discussing something in hushed tones that I couldn’t pick up, but that Blake would have been able to.  
  
Two young men lazed about next to each other just off of the bullhead dock, doing their best to subtly point and gesture at the various girls disembarking from their rides. If I got my guess right, they were rating each of them on some arbitrary attractiveness scale; I instantly pegged them as ‘assholes to watch out for’ in my mind.  
  
A young man walked up to one of the signs, running his fingers across a small section underneath the words that I hadn’t noticed at first glance. Now that I looked more closely, it appeared to be Braille, which raised _questions_ about how this guy was at Beacon to begin with… and then raised other questions on just how dangerous he was if he was here _despit_ e being blind.  
  
The most noteworthy, though…  
  
“P-please, I d-don’t want—“  
  
“And right now, I don’t really _care_ what you want. That beret is an absolute travesty, it doesn’t go with your outfit _at all_. Trust me, you’d look _so_ much better if you took it off, it clashes horribly with that bolero of yours. Actually, your whole outfit could use some work, orange is _so_ not your color.”  
  
“B-but it’s—“  
  
“Is something the matter?” I walked over to the two of them, standing beside Velvet with my arms crossed. “If she doesn’t want to take off the beret, she doesn’t have to take it off.”  
  
The other girl, who had been badgering Velvet over the beret hiding her ears, took hold of her sunglasses and lowered them slightly, giving me a once over. Then, she tutted.  
  
“Oh honey, denim does _not_ go with the rest of that ensemble. Either swap for a leather jacket, or for leather _pants_ ,” she said, her smile suddenly turning into a leer. “Oh _yes_ , the things leather would do for _you_ …”  
  
“Uh-huh,” I said, uncrossing my arms and putting one hand on my hip. “Look, miss…”  
  
“Coco Adel,” she said, offering me her hand. “Do try to remember it.”  
  
“Noah Belladonna,” I offered, putting a bit more force than was strictly necessary into my grip when I took her hand; if she noticed it, though, she didn’t give any indication. “Now, how about we just let Velvet keep her beret, me keep my jeans, and get to initiation?”  
  
“Hmm…” She brought a finger up to her hair, playing with one lock on the right side of her face that was slightly longer than the left. “I suppose I can wait a little longer. Poor attempts at fashion won’t exactly _kill_ me. Just _annoy_.” She flashed us a smirk and slung her handbag—and _why_ , exactly, she brought her _purse_ with her, I don’t know—and strutted off with a very deliberate sway to her hips. “Ta ta! Come find me once you’ve come to your senses!~”  
  
I sighed, glad that that was over, and turned towards Velvet. She was playing with her hands, trying to find a comfortable position and somewhat failing in the process, I think.  
  
“You okay?” I asked.  
  
“Y-you didn’t have t-to do that,” she said, her hands coming up to pull the beret tighter down over her ears. “She d-didn’t mean _ill_ , I don’t think, j-just…”  
  
“Came on too strong and lacking in tact?” I asked.  
  
“Y-yeah,” she said. “Anyway, i-it’s good to see you again.” Velvet favored me with a small smile, and I could see her beret shift slightly as I’m pretty sure her ears responded to her change in mood.  
  
“Same,” I said, giving her a smile in return. “Anyway, shall we head over to the Initiation? I’m pretty sure the Headmaster is going to speak with us, share some words of wisdom.”  
  
“S-sounds good!” Velvet said, a bit of pep creeping back into her voice. “Wonder what he’ll say, exactly.”  
  
“Twenty lien says it’s something profound we don’t understand until midway through the actual Initiation challenge,” I said.  
  
“Thirty says it’s t-too cryptic to understand,” Velvet fired back. I gave her a look, and saw the confidence in her eyes. It may not have been in her voice, but this girl had a _spin_ e.  
  
It just needed the right scenario to show up.  
  
“Deal.” I offered a hand, and she shook it without hesitation. “Well, let’s go see who owes who!”  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
“Today, you take the first steps on your journey towards becoming huntsmen and huntresses,” Headmaster Ozpin spoke from up on the podium. Velvet stood next to me, her hands wrapped around a small lien card, while I held one of my own in my right hand. “There are a few things you should know before going any further. First, take a look at the people around you. Look them in the eye, learn their faces. These are the people who you will be fighting alongside.” I turned towards Velvet with a slight smile, then turned to look at my other side… and grimaced. The boy next to me was fine—he was the one who’d read the Braille on the signs, and judging from the white of his eyes and the little piece of tech clipped to his right ear, he was genuinely blind—but on his other side was _Coco._ “Learn their faces well.  
  
“Because the odds are that in a few years, some of them will be dead.”  
  
I heard a lot of gasps coming from around me. Velvet just looked down, quiet as can be. Coco, on the other side of the blind boy, rolled her eyes and scoffed. The blind boy next to me seemed to respond to her scoff, making body language indicative of conversation… but he said nothing. And yet, Coco responded anyway.  
  
The slight tug in my gut was a hint as to what was going on there, but I didn’t have a chance to think about it now.  
  
“That is the reality of life as huntsmen and huntresses,” Headmaster Ozpin continued. “We hunt. We fight. And yes, we die. If you are not prepared for that possibility, then please look to your left,” he said, pointing his cane in that direction. “You will find the door that way. For those of you that stay, understand that you are putting your very lives on the line, for a job that few people will ever thank you for, against an enemy that cannot be defeated, only pushed back.”  
  
 _You would know, wouldn’t you_ Ozma _?_ I narrowed my eyes slightly at that.  
  
“Not all of you will make it past the Initiation. For those of you that simply fail, you are invited to try again next year. But not all of you will escape alive. The Grimm are an implacable threat. They do not care that you weren’t ready, because in the end, none of us ever _truly_ are. So prepare yourselves to the best of your ability.” Ozpin rapped his cane on the ground, producing far more sound than I’d expected. “Rest up. You have sixteen hours until the Initiation. Take that time to rest, or train, or maintain your equipment. Scout the applicants around you for a partner, or perhaps even a full team. But ready yourselves. For once you step into the Emerald Forest, you are either the hunter, or the prey.  
  
“Lastly. Welcome to Beacon Academy, all of you, even for those who do not make it past tomorrow. And on behalf of all of Remnant… thank you. Thank you for your service.  
  
“And thank you for your sacrifice.”  
  
With that, Headmaster Ozpin raised his mug from the podium, gestures towards us in a ‘cheers’ motion, gave us a final, solemn nod, and left the stage.  
  
I turned towards Velvet. Velvet turned towards me.  
  
“I’m not sure ‘genuine advice and a warning’ was covered under either of our wagers,” I said, nodding at the lien in my hand.  
  
“S-so, call it a draw?” Velvet asked.  
  
“Nope!” A third, familiar voice said, reaching in to pluck the lien from our hands. I scowled at Coco Adel, who had _once again_ inserted herself; next to her, the blind boy buried his face into a hand. “These generous donations will go towards giving you and you,” she pointed at Velvet and me, “a proper wardrobe.”  
  
“... I’m going to regret asking this,” I muttered to myself.  
  
“Debatable,” the boy between me and Coco hid in a cough. Coco shot him a look. I did too.  
  
He didn’t react.  
  
“But why do you even care?” I asked. “You only just met us, and to be frank, your first impression was _garbage_.”  
  
“Was it?” Coco asked, even as the rest of the crowd filtered out around us; over her shoulder I could see the blonde girl from the combat trials, Moira Redpath, exuberantly waving at me and Velvet. I gave a small wave back, and saw Velvet do the same out of the corner of my eye, before Coco grabbed my attention once more by lowering her shades to peer out over them. “Look at me. Really _look_. What do you see? Because _that_ was your _real_ first impression.”  
  
I looked her over, and saw… style. Glamour. Panache. But most importantly… this girl was _confident_. It practically radiated from her, this sense that she was the most important thing in the room, and had what she needed to back it up. More than that, she looked _good_. She drew the eyes of everybody walking around us, and in those gazes I saw envy, desire, jealousy, and admiration.  
  
I didn’t answer. Velvet didn’t either.  
  
“You’ve ever heard the saying ‘clothes make the man’?” Coco asked, a small smile on her face. “If you ask me, there’s a word missing. Clothes make the man _confident_. When you _look_ good, you _feel_ good.”  
  
“I wouldn’t know,” the other boy spoke up. “I’m blind.”  
  
“And this is why I control your wardrobe, Fox,” Coco said. “You nearly went out in _paisley and purple_.”  
  
“Coco, I don’t know what color is,” he said, tone not exasperated in the slightest, just deeply amused.  
  
“The _point_ is,” she said, gesturing to Velvet. “Your looks tell me you both have some issues, and the best way I know to get started on that is a change of appearance.”  
  
“B-but what if we don’t m-make it past Initiation?” Velvet asked, voice soft. “T-then you just… stole f-from us.”  
  
“Honey, please,” Coco said, her tone revealing she was saying something that she considered obvious. “All it takes is a glance to tell who is and isn’t getting out of this. You two, if you don’t pass? I’ll buy a hat and eat it. Them?” She waved to a gaggle of boys and girls all trying to cram themselves out the door to the ballroom, where we’d be spending the night; none of them seemed to notice the second door leading out directly next to the one bottlenecking them. “Same deal, but that’s if they _do_ pass.”  
  
“... something tells me you’re either going to be an absolute blessing or the bane of our existences,” I said with regards to Coco, pinching the bridge of my nose.  
  
“Welcome to my world,” the blind boy said. “Fox Alistair.”  
  
“Noah Belladonna,” I said, unsure whether to offer him a hand. He gave a light bow of his head, so I took that as enough.  
  
“Velvet S-Scarlatina,” she supplied.  
  
“And now everybody’s acquainted!” Coco clapped her hands, making us all jump, then put a band back on her hip. “Now with that out of the way, I say we get some food, and get some beauty sleep. Come come, time’s wasting!” With that, she turned on a heel and strutted off, her hips swaying in a very deliberate fashion. Again.  
  
“You’ll get used to her,” Fox said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Coco really _does_ mean well. She just… has an image to uphold. Don’t let it get to you.”  
  
“This assumes we ever see her again,” I pointed out, to which Velvet nodded.  
  
“Trust me,” he said. “You’ll see her again. I’m _blind_ , and I saw her again.” With that, he gave us a nod and started heading out of the auditorium, following Coco’s path.  
  
“S-should we go get some food now?” Velvet asked. I opened my mouth to answer, but it was at that moment that my stomach decided to sing the song of its people. Loudly. _Very_ loudly. “I’ll t-take that as a yes!” Velvet replied, the slight stutter in her voice coming from the giggle fit she’d fallen into.  
  
“... I knew I should’ve eaten a bigger lunch,” I grumbled. Velvet lead the way, still giggling as my stomach kept rumbling.  
  
Alright, stomach, I get it. Hunger is the enemy.  
  
Grimm can come later.  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
The dinner Beacon provided was simple fair. And by simple fair, I meant “the easiest, lowest effort thing they could do and still please people”.  
  
So they got pizza. Or made pizza, I don’t know which. I sat there happy with some meat lover’s pizza, liberally sprinkled with chili flakes. I also very pointedly did _not_ say anything about Velvet’s choice of _ham and pineapple_ , no matter how badly I wanted to.  
  
Sacrilege, utter sacrilege.  
  
Once that was done though, it was time to wash up and… sleep on the floor of the ballroom. They provided futons, blankets, and pillows at least, but still. For the most part the room ended up split, the boys on the western end and the girls in the eastern half. Obviously there were exceptions, the most notable being that same Mistralian quartet I’d noticed earlier, as well as Moira Redpath and a boy a fair bit taller than her, doing his best to hold a flute out of her reach. Velvet and I found ourselves in this middle section with them, as did Coco and Fox before the two of them went off to… I don’t know where, and frankly, I don’t care.  
  
“There’s some showers and bathrooms we can use to wash up,” Velvet said, setting up her futon with meticulous care. If we’d had sheeting, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she went and made hospital corners, despite it being a futon on the ground. “Um… did you want to go first?”  
  
“Sure,” I said, grabbing my shower stuff, toothbrush, and toothpaste before heading to the bathrooms. There were helpful signs posted, along with some small print underneath stating that these were full bathrooms, unisex, and requesting that we not take more than 15 minutes showering, to let everyone have enough time. Thankfully, I didn’t take much time, and about eight minutes later I was clean, dressed in pyjamas (fine, an old t-shirt and mesh shorts), and ready for bed. I pushed the door open to let whoever was next use it.  
  
“Hey, how long did you take in the shower?” Coco Adel asked the instant I pushed the door open. “It takes _forever_ to get my hair right.”  
  
I looked her straight in the eye—literally straight, we were eye-level with on another, though I wager that had something to do with the heels on her boots—and blinked. Was she for real?  
  
“We’re about to get thrown into a Grimm-infested forest to fight for our lives,” I began, “and you’re worried about your _hair_.”  
  
“Yes,” she said. She didn’t offer anything else, made no excuses… just cocked a hip and rested her hand on it, practically daring me to say anything else.  
  
“I spent four minutes in the shower,” I finally offered, “so you can take an extra eleven before somebody gets pissy.”  
  
“ _Excellent_ ,” she said, moving around me and to the door. I started to walk away, but when I didn’t hear the bathroom’s door closed, I stopped and turned around.  
  
“Something the matter?”  
  
“Maybe,” she said, frowning. “Hat girl. What is she to you?”  
  
“Not sure what that matters, but we just met at the combat trials.” I matched her frown with one of my own. “Why?”  
  
“Oh, just wondering why you helped her keep hiding.” I couldn’t help the slightly rushed intake of breath at that. “Oh come on, it was _obvious_. Did you or she really expect it to fool anyone?”  
  
“You’d be amazed,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “What’s it matter to you?”  
  
“I don’t like it,” she said, raising a hand to keep me from answering when she saw my hackles rise. “Girl’s _good_ , anyone with a lick of skill can see it. Even Fox, and he’s blind. And yet she still hides herself away like that. If she doesn’t have the confidence to take the hat off, she’s not going to have the confidence when it’s just her between civilians and an army of Grimm.”  
  
“Don’t you think you’re overthinking it a bit?” I said, crossing my arms. “You and I both said something about first impressions. Maybe she just wants people’s first impressions to be of her as a _person_ , and not just as a Faunus.”  
  
“World isn’t that nice,” Coco said, her frown deepening. “Better to just make people be honest rather than give them a chance to be two-faced about it. And believe me, I doubt she wants people to be her friend now and _stop_ because she wasn’t up-front about herself.”  
  
“Not really how it works,” I said. “But I don’t think I’m going to convince you, so I say we agree to disagree on that matter. By the way,” I said, gesturing at her face with a hand. “Sunglasses indoors _and_ at night?”  
  
“Hey, the sunglasses bring this whole outfit together!” Coco defended, her tone affronted. “I’ve got something else for sleep that doesn’t need the sunglasses, you’ll see.” With that, she pulled her sunglasses off, and waved them in her hand. I blinked and squinted a bit as the light reflected off of the outer surface of their lenses and into my eyes. A moment later I saw her eyes meet mine for a second, but broke the stare when she wiggled her glasses in her hand, the glare of the bathroom light repeatedly bouncing into my eyes, and making me blink every time it did.  
  
Then she flipped them closed, grabbed them by the middle, and shot me a smug smile as she closed the bathroom door in my face.  
  
… I feel like I missed something there. Whatever.  
  
Weird girl.  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
“You’re up,” Noah said as he approached. Velvet had to carefully school her response to keep her ears from twitching too much and pushing her beret off, hiding the wince at how cramped they felt under her hat. Ugh, and she was going to have to brush out the fur, it was probably sticking every which way…  
  
“T-thanks again,” she said, looking up a ways at her new friend, and offering him a small smile as she did. He was tall, quite a bit taller than her already, and probably had a fair bit _more_ growing to do. His black hair was still wet, spiking up a bit from how he must have run the towel through it to dry. There was also a small bit of redness at the corners of his jaw, probably from a tricky shave, if the smoothness was any indication. What struck her the most, though, was just how tense his shoulders were. Like he was certain that at any moment, something bad could happen.  
  
For a moment, she wondered just what he was afraid of. And then she shook herself free of it; it wasn’t like that was any of her business, anyway.  
  
Yet, she amended hopefully. If they wound up partnered in the Initiation...  
  
“Ah… i-it was nothing,” he said, looking away with a matching smile of his own. “Oh, you can probably get away with an extra ten minutes on the shower. I don’t think most of the other guys used up their full fifteen either.”  
  
“Oh, right.” Velvet got her stuff together, making sure to include a small brush for the fur on her ears. “Anyway, b-back in a bit!”  
  
With that, Velvet made her way to the bathrooms, and luxuriated in the feel of the hot water. She probably took a bit more extra time than the additional ten minutes Noah suggested could be spared, but it was hard to blame her. Hot water was at a bit of a premium in her apartment; she hadn’t had a shower like this in months. Maybe even years. It was absolutely _heavenly_.  
  
All good things must come to an end though, and Velvet couldn’t help the sigh of disappointment when she turned the water off.  
  
She went about the rest of her business in the washroom, then brought out the nightcap she’d bought specifically to use for this. It took a bit of work, but she managed to array her ears in a way that… well, it wasn’t _un_ comfortable, at least.  
  
Not for the first time, Velvet wondered what her parents would say if they saw her hiding her ears like this. Would they understand? Or would they disapprove anyway? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.  
  
Velvet pulled the bathroom door open, and started when she saw a hand partially plummet down towards her. She leapt back with a slight squeak, then looked up to see the blind boy from earlier, Fox Alistair, facing her general direction with an embarrassed look on his face.  
  
“... uh,” he said, before pausing to find his words, a hand going behind his head to rub at the nape of his neck. “Sorry about that, was just… trying to read the sign on the door.”  
  
“I-it’s okay!” Velvet said hurriedly. “B-but, um, how? You’re—I mean, you can’t—”  
  
Fox interrupted her with a chuckle, reaching a hand out, palm up.  
  
“May I?”  
  
“O-okay?” Velvet reached her own hand out tentatively. Fox took her gently by the wrist and raised her hand to the door, letting her feel the small raised bumps on the lower portion of the door sign.  
  
“That’s how blind people can read. Every set of two columns and three rows is a letter, and which bumps are there lets us tell which.” He frowned a bit. “I prefer raised lettering, but it costs more lien. So it’s usually just braille for me.”  
  
“I se—um, I mean, that is…” Velvet trailed off, unsure how to phrase it. “It’s really hard to avoid sight-based idioms, isn’t it?” she asked, trying to distract from how flustered she was.  
  
“Almost as much as animal-based ones,” Fox said, his tone knowing. The comment jolted Velvet out of her thoughts, and she looked Fox dead in the eyes, not that he could tell, she thought. “I’d… like to apologize for Coco. She means well, she really does… she just doesn’t really know the meaning of restraint.” He frowned. “And sometimes deliberately misconstrues boundaries, personal space, and comfort zones. Also blast radii, but she’ll deny it.”  
  
Velvet wasn’t sure how to respond to that one. She shifted a bit beneath Fox’s stare; despite knowing he couldn’t actually _see_ her, she still felt as though his gaze was stripping her of all pretense.  
  
“... um, I hope it’s not too rude to ask,” Velvet started, waiting until Fox made a gesture to keep going before she continued. “But… your eyes. Do you—I mean, have you been treated… _differently_ when hiding them?”  
  
“At first,” he said. “They’d treat me like I could see. But the glasses come off, and suddenly they’re all bending over backwards. Getting things out of my way. Watching what they say. The worst is when they start describing things to me.” He brought a hand to the small device clipped to his right ear. “This thing gives me a picture of the world. I know what things look like, generally; what they’re shaped like, how they move. But I can’t determine texture without touching it, and I don’t know color. Lost my sight when I was four; I don’t _remember_ what it’s like to see color. I know they exist—sky is blue, grass is green—but I don’t know what those _are_. It’s easier when people know I’m blind from the outset,” he said. “Less pity. They see me functioning normally without sight, and just accept it.”  
  
“I s-see,” Velvet said, flinching when she caught what she’d said.  
  
“Yeah,” Fox said, a wry grin on his face. “You do.”  
  
“Do… do you think I should?” She reached up to her nightcap, fingers dancing along the brim.  
  
“Not really my choice, is it,” Fox said. “But if you want my opinion? Just like it’s easier for people to know I’m blind from the outset…”  
  
Velvet said nothing, thinking over his words. She moved around Fox to exit the bathrooms, and let him have the room. It was a choice she _had_ to make, she knew. A ruse like hers couldn’t last forever, it just wasn’t possible. But even still…  
  
A minute passed. Then two. And she made up her mind.  
  
“I’m back,” Velvet said to Noah as she approached, watching him decide between layering multiple thin blankets and using one larger, fluffier blanket, before deciding on the big one.  
  
“Welcome ba—” Noah’s voice caught in his throat when he turned to face her. She caught his eyes flicking up from her face to her ears, their tips stretching just above his own head, before looking back down to her eyes. And then he smiled. “No hat, huh?”  
  
Velvet shook her head.  
  
“It’s n-nothing special,” she said. “Just… m-me.”  
  
“... yeah,” he agreed. “Anyway… big day tomorrow, yeah? Let’s try and get some sleep.”  
  
“Sweet dreams, Noah,” she said, tucking herself in under her covers.  
  
“You too, Velvet,” he said. “Sweet dreams.”  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
“For years, you have trained to become warriors,” Headmaster Ozpin said, flanked by his deputy headmistress, Glynda Goodwitch, “and today, your abilities will be evaluated in the Emerald Forest.”  
  
We stood on a cliff overlooking the forest he’d just mentioned, the lot of us lined up in single file. Thirty-six applicants, each of us standing on a ceramic tile with Beacon’s crossed-axes sigil upon it. The line order was first-come first-serve, which made it all the more entertaining that the same group of four Mistralians was, again, _still together_.  
  
“Now, I’m sure many of you have heard rumors about the assignment of teams,” Ozpin’s second, Professor Goodwitch, took over at this point. “Well, allow us to put an end to your confusion: each of you will be given teammates _today_.”  
  
“These teammates,” Headmaster Ozpin continued for her, “will be with you for the rest of your time here at Beacon, so it is in your best interest to be paired with someone with whom you can work well.” I glanced to my left, and Velvet likewise glanced to her right. “That being said… the first person you make eye contact with after landing will be your partner for the next four years.”  
  
Velvet flinched at that, deflating a bit. I thought about that for a second—something in the way he’d phrased that…  
  
“After you’ve partnered up, make your way to the northern end of the forest. You _will_ meet opposition along the way. Do not hesitate to destroy everything in your path, or you _will_ die.”  
  
He paused a moment to let that sink in. I could see some people on either side, mostly on the far right end, quaver a bit at that.  
  
“You will be monitored and graded for the duration of your Initiation, but our instructors will not intervene. Your task will be to find one of several sites along the northern edge of the forest, containing various relics. Each pair must choose one, which will then guide you to a second location in the forest. We will regard your choice, as well as your performance, and grade you appropriately. You have eight hours. Please be aware that there are not as many relics as there are applicants; any pairs that have not found a relic, as well as any pairs still in the forest at the end of the Initiation, will have failed the Initiation, and can try again next year.  
  
“Are there any questions?”  
  
Nobody spoke.  
  
“Good. Now, take your positions, and prepare your landing strategy.”  
  
The first tile at the far end, under the first of those four Mistralians, clicked twice before launching its occupant, a long-haired young man wielding a spear and shield, high into the air. Moments later the second launched, and the next Mistralian, a wolf Faunus, lashed at the air with his wooden spear. I felt a pull in my gut as his spear _grew_ , reaching out and grasping the other airborne Mistralian and pulling the two closer.  
  
“Actually, I do have a question now,” I said, pointing at what was happening in front of us. “I thought you said our partners would be the first person we saw upon landing. Are they allowed to do that?”  
  
Headmaster Ozpin glanced over his shoulder, took a sip from his mug, and smiled. At the same time, the third and fourth Mistralians were launched, and the third—a short girl with silver hair reaching to her shoulders—flung a flail on a long chain towards the fourth, who grasped the chain and allowed himself to be reeled in.  
  
“So I did,” Ozpin said. “But I don’t recall saying you couldn’t try to control _who_ that first person ends up being, did I?”  
  
Ozpin smiled as that little detail sunk in, even as more aspirants found themselves flung airborne over the forest. A moment later, I felt the load on my back lighten, and turned to see Velvet snatch Claw from my back, flicking the fire select on its side to switch it from full-auto with recoil compensation to semi-automatic.  
  
“I’ll get it back to you in a moment!” Velvet said, an instant before the plate beneath her finished clicking, and launched her skyward. She fired Claw ahead of her, slowing her travel and looking back, waiting for me to follow.  
  
“It would seem your partner picked you rather deliberately,” Ozpin said, smiling over the rim of his mug.  
  
“Eh,” I shrugged, “I’d say it was a mutual—”  
  
I didn’t get a chance to finish. The pad beneath my feet ticked once, twice, and launched me skyward. I unslung Fang from my back and fired behind me, carrying me forward to where I saw Velvet falling, doing her best to spread eagle and slow her fall. I pulled myself in tighter, into more of an arrow shape, and fired again, letting the recoil throw me towards her. Ahead of me, she pulled the trigger again, and the two of us met up in mid-air, right after the apex of our climbs.  
  
“Now what!?” Velvet yelled over the rushing wind.  
  
Once again, I didn’t get a chance to answer, as the treeline came up on us fast. I flicked Fang, mechashifting it back into a sword, and Velvet did the same with Claw. The two of us buried the blades into the side of a particularly large tree, slowing our falls until we came to a dead halt twenty feet above the ground. I pulled up with both arms and planted my feet against the tree trunk, a movement Velvet copied exactly, and then _pushed_. Fang slid free from the bark, and I landed safely on the ground below.  
  
I looked Velvet in the eye, and she looked back in mine.  
  
“Well partner,” I said, resting Fang on my shoulder, “where to?”  
  
“North!” Velvet said, pointing with Claw. Then she frowned, turned, and pointed in a different direction. “... I, um, d-don’t know which way north is.”  
  
“... me neither,” I said, looking up at the sky. I couldn’t see where the sun was through the forest’s canopy. “Plan B?”  
  
“I-is that ‘wander until we find it’?” Velvet asked, and I nodded, a bit sheepish. “Plan B it is, then!”  
  
Wander around until we find it, then. In a massive, Grimm-infested forest. To find one of several specific, small locations, which would then guide us to a _second_ location. And all on a time limit.  
  
I looked to Velvet. She smiled back at me, Claw resting on her right shoulder, mirroring my stance.  
  
Yeah. We could take it.  
  
... shit. I just jinxed it, didn't I?


	4. Chapter 4

“That’s five pairs already,” Glynda remarked as she tapped away at the large Scroll in her hands. “I think we have a new record for the largest number of partnerships formed within one minute of landing.” She frowned, expanding three of the video feeds into a picture-in-picture. “A few of them worry me, though.”  
  
“The Mistralians?” Ozpin asked.  
  
“Well, yes,” Glynda admitted. “The fact that they are here, and not at Haven, raises some _questions_ about Leonardo. When did we last hear from him?” Ozpin opened his mouth to answer. “For longer than a two minute ‘nothing to report’, Oz.”  
  
“I will admit it is slightly… _worrisome_ that we have so many candidates from Mistral. Unfortunately, there is not much I can do about it, save try to soothe Leonardo’s wounded pride and see if there’s anything that can be changed to compensate,” Ozpin said. “What about the other teams?”  
  
“I worry for Briarthorn’s sanity; Redpath got to him, and looking at his transcripts and her notes from the combat trial, she’s as boisterous as he is reserved. Not to mention, didn't her mother send a letter specifically saying _not_ to let her attend?”  
  
“I talked Councilor Redpath down to a ‘no missions near Mountain Glenn’ prohibition,” Ozpin said, taking a sip from his mug of cocoa. “Morgan just needed to be assuaged that she wouldn’t lose anyone else to that disaster. But we both know you’re dancing around the issue, Glynda.”  
  
“... as always, you’re right,” Glynda admitted. “Oz, we only have _four_ Faunus applicants this year. And two of them have already partnered up with _each other_.”  
  
“And what would you like me to do?” Ozpin asked, frustration leaking into his tone. “Reduce the tuition for combat academies? I don’t control those. Improve access to Dust and weapons training in Faunus communities? Again, I can’t do that. I may be powerful, I may be influential, but I am only one man. I have _limits_ , Glynda.” He stares down into his mug, looking for something in the dark liquid. “Much as I would sometimes like to, I cannot force change upon this world. All I can do is ensure that those Faunus that do make it to us succeed to the best of their abilities, and serve as exemplars. Not just to other Faunus, but to closed-minded humans trying to tar all Faunus with the same brush.”  
  
“And when they inevitably decide that your ‘exemplars’ are just the exception?” Glynda asked.  
  
“There are only so many _exceptions_ a person can make before the rationale for the very categories they’re making exceptions to begins to crumble. Is so few Faunus enough? Maybe not,” he admitted, taking another sip of cocoa. “But it’s a start.”  
  
“And we all have to start somewhere,” Glynda finished for him. “Is that it?”  
  
“For now, at least.” Ozpin looked at the tablet, studying the various camera feeds. “Adel and Alistair found the first of our ‘relics’, it seems.”  
  
“I _still_ don’t know what possessed you to make _those_ the relics this year,” Glynda admonished. “What, did you come up with it after drinking some of Bartholomew’s ‘coffee’?”  
  
Ozpin slurped his cocoa a _bit_ more loudly than normal.  
  
“ _Oz_!” Glynda yelled.  
  
“In my defense, you should try it,” he said, trying to ruffle his deputy headmistress’ feathers. “It’s _really good coffee_.”  
  
“Oz…”  
  
“Really. Good. Coffee.” With that, he resumed slurping at his cocoa. “That said, I’ll likely need to be on a strict cocoa-only hot liquid diet for the next week. I don’t know _how_ Bartholomew drinks that every day.”  
  
“It’s best not to think about it,” Glynda suggested. “Now, how about we get back to _doing our job_?” She waved the Scroll in Oz’s general direction.  
  
“Yes, let’s.” And with that, Ozpin drained the last of his cocoa, and finally paid attention to the video feed of his potential new students.  
  
At least, until he refilled his mug with more cocoa from his thermos, much to Glynda’s chagrin.  
  
  


  
*** * * * ***

  
  
  
“Noah, jump!”  
  
I complied instantly, leaping over the Boarbatusk that had charged out of the brush. Once I did, Velvet pulled the trigger on Claw and rushed in, carving a deep gash into the Grimm’s neck. It squealed in pain and staggered back from her attack before setting its burning-red gaze onto her. The Boarbatusk pawed at the ground once, twice—and charged.  
  
Pro tip: once a Boarbatusk is charging, they mostly lose the ability to _turn_. For a young Boarbatusk like this one, all you really have to do is take two steps to the side and let it sail right past you. This is exactly what Velvet did, leaving the Boarbatusk on a collision course with a great big tree.  
  
Its tusks pierced the bark and sank a few inches in. I took the opportunity to line up a shot with Fang; my bullet passed through its open wound, through the side of its skull, and out into the three trunk.  
  
“So that’s how many now?” I asked, flipping open Fang’s cylinder to reload it as the Boarbatusk dissipated into nothingness. “Two pigs, three Creeps, and an Ursa?”  
  
“Four Creeps,” Velvet corrected. I reached into a pocket and tossed a magazine her way, which she used to reload Claw before tossing me the mostly-spent mag to refill. “And, um, I think we passed that tree already.” She pointed to a tree three trunks over, with an X carved into its bark.  
  
“... alright, plan ‘wander until we find it’ isn’t working,” I said, “and without being able to see the sun through the canopy, we’re gonna need a different way to find north.”  
  
“And what’s that?” Velvet asked, a light frown on her face.  
  
“Well there’s the stick method,” I started, “but I don’t think we want to waste the hour that trick needs to really _work_. There’s also the moss method—find which side of the trees and rocks moss usually grows on. North-facing slopes get the least sunlight on this part of Remnant, so they’re _usually_ most plentiful on the north face.”  
  
“Usually?” Velvet asked. “And what if it’s not?”  
  
“Well, that’s why we get a large sample size before just tromping off,” I said, grimacing at the thought of possibly going the absolute wrong way. “Besides,” I said, turning to face Velvet now, “it’s not like we can just whip out our Scrolls and—“  
  
And there she was, Scroll in hand, compass application open and pointing towards north.  
  
“You forgot we could do this?” Velvet asked.  
  
“... lets go with that, yes.” I’m pretty sure I was blushing with embarrassment at this point. Gods, how had I completely forgotten that we could just use the _miniature computers in our pockets_ for something so simple as finding north? “So, which way?”  
  
“Let’s see, it’s…” Velvet spun in a slow circle, eyes glued to the screen as the tiny compass wheel on it oriented itself. “This way!” She stopped, pointing deeper into the forest.  
  
“Alright then. Lead on!”  
  
Velvet needed little more prompting, and led the way. She stopped every so often to double-check her Scroll, but it was smooth sailing. Incidentally, we also hadn’t seen any more Grimm since relying on the compass; I would wager it’s because we weren’t drawing attention by carving X’s into every tree we went past. Amazing how not disturbing the local ‘wildlife’ made for a more peaceful stroll through the woods.  
  
“S-so, since we’re partners now,” Velvet said from in front of me, after quite a few minutes of silence, “why don’t we, um, get to know each other a bit better?”  
  
“Now?” I asked, pointing at the forest.  
  
“I’ll hear the Grimm coming,” she said, her ears swiveling a bit as though to make a point.  
  
“Right, right,” I agreed. “So, what did you have in mind?”  
  
“Hm… favorite food?” Velvet suggested.  
  
“Ugh, you had to start with a hard one first,” I grumbled. “Well, that’s a bit of a toss-up, really, so—”  
  
“Only food you bring an unlimited supply of to a desert island,” Velvet clarified. “If it were me, I’d go with red velvet cupcakes!”  
  
“... I feel like I should’ve seen that one coming,” I mused to myself. Velvet Scarlatina likes _red velvet_ cake. “If it’s the only thing I can bring with me to a desert island, I’d have to go with chocolate. Love it, can’t get enough of it, will do ridiculous things for it. Trust me, you could probably wake me up by holding a piece of chocolate under my nose; just... watch your fingers.” Velvet laughed a little at that before stopping in place and holding a hand up, her ears twitching as she listened for something I couldn’t pick up. “What is it?”  
  
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I thought it was a big bird, but then the bird started… talking?”  
  
“Think maybe it’s a bird Faunus?” I asked, frowning. Some Faunus had changes to their vocal cords as part of their trait; there were a few on Menagerie that worked as performers, and could make sounds that would have been impossible for a human to replicate.  
  
“No, the pitch is all wrong,” Velvet said. “It’s coming from that break in the tree line, over there.” I frowned, but there wasn’t much else we could do at the moment. And let’s be real, I was curious. Yes, I know, curiosity killed the cat and I’m a cat Faunus; the joke is old, trite, boring, and I’ve heard literally _every_ variation of it. That doesn’t magically make me _not still curious_.  
  
Also, there’s no joke about rabbits being curious, and Velvet was both a rabbit Faunus _and_ curious just like I was, so _nyah_.  
  
We made it to the break in the treeline to find a small clearing, ringed by a copse of older trees whose shade didn’t provide enough light to any other enterprising saplings trying to grow in the area. In the center of the clearing stood a trio of old stone pillars, remarkably out-of-place for the clearing in which it sat. Atop the largest, central pillar sat… a brass grate?  
  
“Tell me I’m not the only one seeing this,” I said.  
  
“You’re not the only one seeing this,” Velvet replied. “But, um… what exactly _are_ you not the only one seeing?” I gave her my best attempt at the Kali Belladonna ‘Look’ (patent pending), only for Velvet to blink and raise a hand in question.  
  
… never change, Velvet. Never change.  
  
I did oblige, though, and pointed at the top of the pillar.  
  
“Is there something on top of it?” Velvet asked. “I can’t see from this angle.”  
  
Oh. Ah. That… explained it, actually.  
  
“Here,” I got down, “let me give you a lift so you can—”  
  
“Hello, _wark_!” I jumped back upright at the sudden voice, and looked to the top of the pillar. Velvet squeaked in surprise, her ears twitching atop her head.  
  
“H-hello?” Velvet said, voice tentative. “U-um, Headmaster Ozpin s-sent us to find a relic?”  
  
“That’s me, _wark_! Relic, relic! Let me out!” More sounds came from the top of the pillar, at two different pitches. “Me first, _wark_!”  
  
Velvet looked to me, and gestured at the pillar. I nodded, and the two of us took an Aura-boosted jump up to the top of the smaller columns. Up there, we finally got a good look at the brass grate I’d gotten a glimpse of from down below.  
  
“... I…” Velvet trailed off back into silence. “I have no words for this.”  
  
‘This’ was a pair of large birdcages, placed so closely to each other that they resembled one large birdcage with a partition in the middle. In one of the cages was a large raven, its beady brown eye staring at us, its head twitching between me and Velvet to fully take in the both of us. The occupant of the other birdcage, though…  
  
“That’s a hyacinth macaw,” I said, looking the blue-feathered bird in the eye. “But… what’s one doing here? Actually, I’ve got a better question: how did it get off Menagerie?”  
  
“That’s me!” the bird helpfully supplied. “Relic!”  
  
“How do you know they’re from Menagerie?” Velvet asked.  
  
“They’re popular as pets among Mistralian nobles, as are other macaws,” I explained, looking for the mechanism to let it out of the cage. “There’s so few humans on Menagerie, so it’s pretty much assumed that any human of Mistralian origin, or boarding a ship bound for Anima, is going to be smuggling one back. And that’s not a good thing; Menagerie’s ecosystem has precious few non-murderous animals in it as is without smugglers taking them away.”  
  
“That’s… sad, really,” Velvet said. “But it does sound normal for Mistralians to me.” I blinked a bit at the sudden venom in her voice; there was a story here, I could sense it, but now was neither the time nor the place to ask. “Anyway, d-didn’t the Headmaster say something about, um, being led elsewhere by our relic?”  
  
“Follow me!” We turned back to the macaw. “Take you there! _Wark_!” At that, the raven also chirped something at us, and hopped to another spot of its cage. It began pecking at the latch for its side of the cage, then looked at us, then back to the latch, before gesturing at it meaningfully with a wing.  
  
“I… think this is what the Headmaster said when he mentioned choosing a relic.” I gestured at the cage. “Which one do you think we should—”  
  
“Macaw,” Velvet said in a tone that brooked no arguments. She was already down on one knee and working at the latch, before I could even get a word in edgewise. An instant later, she had the cage open, and the macaw hopped out and onto one arm before rubbing its head against Velvet’s other hand. “Aww, it’s so sweet!”  
  
“You’ve never seen one break open a coconut,” I said, shuddering.  
  
“You know, you never said you were from Menagerie,” Velvet said, smiling as she ran a finger down the back of the macaw’s head, its eyes closing as it leaned further into her.  
  
“I, uh… well,” I stammered a bit. “It… never came up. Didn’t think it was that important, what with—”  
  
“What was it like?” Velvet asked, interrupting me. “To be able to just… _be_ a Faunus, there. Not worry about what humans think and say.” She laid a hand on the back of the macaw’s head, rubbing the top with her thumb. “To not have to deal with the discrimination.”  
  
“There’s… two separate answers to this question,” I said honestly, prompting Velvet to look at me. “One’s short and sweet, but misses most of the context. The other one… you’re not going to like the other one,” I admitted. “And it would probably take more time than we really have right now.”  
  
“Actually we might have enough; I mean, it took us under an hour to find the relics,” Velvet pointed out with a smile, raising the arm holding our new avian friend. Then she frowned, her brow furrowing in thought. “But wait, h-he said _eight_ hours. Why give us so much time if we just need to go to another location now?”  
  
“I get the feeling that that’s the kicker,” I said, looking at the bird. “Alright buddy, you wanna show us where to go next?”  
  
“That way!” I looked down to the macaw on Velvet’s arm, and saw it pointing in a particular direction with its wing. She looked up to me. I looked back at her. The macaw looked up at both of us.  
  
“... I don’t think I expected us to be taking directions from a bird,” I mumbled, but hopped down off the stone column and back to the forest floor.  
  
“But it’s such a _smart_ bird!” Velvet cooed, scratching the bird atop its head. “Who’s such a smart birdie? Yes you are, yes you are!” The macaw preened at this, leaning into her touch for a moment before it hopped up to Velvet’s shoulder, nipping affectionately at her human ear. “H-hey, quit that!” Even as she offered the bird an admonition though, she was giggling at its antics.  
  
“Alright, fine, it’s a cute bird,” I grumbled. “Come on, we’ve still got the rest of Initiation to go.”  
  
And with that, I started following directions from a macaw. I really, _really_ wanted to go for the low-hanging fruit here and call this whole thing bird-brained, but really, Ozpin?  
  
The ‘relics’ were _live, trained navigation birds_!? What are you _smoking_?  
  
… actually, no. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.  
  
  


  
*** * * * ***

  
  
  
Have you ever tried to follow a bird through a forest? Even when the bird is fairly large, is actively stopping every so often, and outright _telling you where it is_ , it’s not easy to actually keep track of the damn thing. It doesn’t help that we’re in a forest with tons of shade, trying to follow a _dark blue_ bird. It ended up being easier to find the macaw by looking for the small amount of yellow on its head and tail feathers, rather than trying to follow a dark-blue shape as it moves through shade. By the way, people, this is why if you want to be sneaky in an area with little to no light pollution (read, anywhere other than Atlas), you wear _dark blue_.  
  
Even beyond that though, I was trying to keep track of which _direction_ we were going. So far, our course seemed to be taking us west-by-southwest, so back towards the cliff face we originally got catapulted from. There hadn’t been any doubling back—no three-right-turns-for-a-left here—but we were clearly being led on a very specific path. And I think I know _why_ we were being led so carefully: I hadn’t seen _any_ Grimm on this route.  
  
Not a single one.  
  
And if that hadn’t had my hackles raised already, then Velvet suddenly leaping to grab our new macaw friend and pull him close, her ears swiveling and scanning the area? Well, that definitely finished the job.  
  
“I hear something,” she whispered, even as our new macaw friend flailed a bit at her with his wings. She tapped it twice on the beak, and it stilled in her arms. Velvet closed her eyes and listened closely, both ears turning just a hair more to focus on something specific.  
  
… just a hair… _ugh_ , I groaned internally. I wasn’t even intending to, and I wound up making a _rabbit pun_ about—no, Noah, not the time. Admonish yourself over bad puns _later_.  
  
“What is it?” I asked Velvet. Her brow furrowed as she focused.  
  
“It sounds like another macaw… and it’s talking to someone,” she said. “They’re replying back… _oh_ ,” her voice soured slightly.  
  
“Oh?” I asked.  
  
“It’s Fox and _Coco_ ,” Velvet grimaced. “He’s fine, but… Coco is too, um.” She stopped for a moment, looking for the word.  
  
“Pushy?” I asked. “Forward? Comes on too strong?”  
  
“All of the above?” Velvet supplied, and I couldn’t help but crack a grin at that. “I… don’t think we get much choice in this, though.”  
  
“Yeah, probably not,” I said, my smile falling. “Alright. Shall we?”  
  
Velvet released the macaw, who hopped up and settled on Velvet’s shoulder _just_ long enough to cuff her over the head with a wing. Then, it took flight and led us into another clearing… before it beat its wings hard, flying _up_. We followed the bird’s flight and saw what could only be a treehouse, nestled squarely in the uppermost branches of the largest tree along the outside of the clearing.  
  
“Want a boost?” I asked Velvet, lifting Fang from where it lay against my shoulder for a moment.  
  
“W-what about you?” she asked before looking down at her hands, where she still held Claw. I shrugged and motioned at her, holding up a hand meaningfully. “Ooooh!”  
  
Aaaaaand she got it. Good.  
  
“Alright,” I said. “”Ready?” Velvet nodded, pulling her adjusting staff off of her back and shifting it into the same spear-form I’d seen during the combat trial. “Hop as high as you can on three,” I told her. “One, two, _three_ —!”  
  
Velvet leapt up, and I brought the flat of Fang’s blade under her feet. With a mighty heave on my end, and an even stronger kick on hers, we propelled her straight up to the tree house. She landed gracefully on a branch, then knocked at the house’s frame, drawing the attention of the others we knew were inside, then turned down towards the ground and waved at me to come up. I chuckled, folded Fang, and set the weapon onto my back. With a deep breath, I set my sights on the tree in front of me.  
  
Then, with a flex of my fingers, my claws came out. I raced at the tree and took a running jump. Once I got close to the apex, I buried my claws into the bark, and pulled up while also pushing with both feet, practically leaping up the tree. A few repetitions was all it took to finish my climb, and I landed lightly on a large branch just next to Velvet’s, pulling my claws back and shaking my hands out.  
  
“Just keep those away from my clothes and we’ll be good, you hear?” Coco said from inside the treehouse. I turned to see her with one eyebrow raised, looking at me over the top of her sunglasses.  
  
“You know, it’s _really_ offensive to just assume a Faunus is going to act like the animal whose trait they have,” I said, popping my claws back out and inspecting them.  
  
“Don’t go hissing at me, we _both_ know you weren’t offended in the slightest,” Coco deadpanned back. “Come on, there’s enough room in the treehouse for all of us.”  
  
“Still, p-please don’t say things like that,” Velvet said, her ears dropping. “I… don’t like it.” Coco sucked in a sharp hiss of breath at that and looked away, an odd expression on her face.  
  
I looked to Velvet.  
  
“If she suggests I get a scratching post, I’m going to kill her,” I said.  
  
“What? I wouldn’t—”  
  
 _“All of you, enough,”_ a voice spoke directly into my thoughts, at the same time as I felt a pulling in my gut. I jumped at the combination—literally jumped, I almost didn’t land back down on the branch—and Velvet gave a slight shriek of surprise. Coco, though, had no reaction to it, and Fox—  
  
The voice was Fox’s.  
  
 _“Don’t panic, it’s just my Semblance. Now all of you, get in here. The birds are sitting on a pair of oddly-shaped perches, with figurines beneath them, and I don’t have the eyesight to tell what they are.”_  
  
I shrugged, pushing past Coco to get into the treehouse. I was fine with what she said—I’d heard _far_ worse at olden-days White Fang rallies, all of it from the counter-demonstrators opposite us, and at this point it was nothing more than light teasing, if you asked me. But Velvet didn’t like it. And that was reason enough for it to stop completely. It was something that could be resolved later, in private, and not in front of Velvet.  
  
With that out of the way, and our petty squabbles at least temporarily behind us, we all entered into the treehouse. It was… it was a treehouse. I’m not sure what else to say about it, other than the odd apparatus on the back wall. Like Fox had mentioned, there were two perches, upon which sat our hyacinth macaw and Coco’s and Fox’s scarlet macaw. The two of them were chirping at each other and hopping around a bit, which… let their perches move upwards a tiny bit, until their weight fell back down onto the perch.  
  
“They’re scales,” Velvet said suddenly,, walking over to the macaws’ perches. She reached a hand underneath our macaw’s perch and pushed up, and just as expected, it rose a fair ways up. Then she removed her hand, and it fell back down, bouncing a bit like a see-saw.  
  
“You think these are the weights for the other side?” Coco asked, waving a hand at the wall next to her. Following her hand, I saw a display case, filled with miniatures of various bird species. I could pick out a raven, a crow, a couple owls, and some macaws. There; a hyacinth and a scarlet. I grabbed both miniatures and walked over to the birds’ perches, and placed the miniatures on their respective scales.  
  
Both birds’ perches raised a little bit, before coming to a stop. A moment later, a pleasant chime sounded, and all of our Scrolls beeped in unison.  
  
 _“Would both partners retrieve each of their relics, and proceed to the cliff overlooking the Emerald Forest,”_ a voice spoke from our Scrolls. Velvet and Fox went over to the birds, while Coco and I picked up the miniatures that corresponded to them.  
  
“Okay then, _team_ ,” Coco said, a hand on her hip. “Let’s get a move—”  
  
And then the _klaxons_ started.  
  
“A-ah!” Velvet cried, her hands flying up to fold her ears down as she winced in pain. I took a breath, reminding myself that I was still in the Emerald Forest, and pulled my hand away from Fang’s hilt.  
  
“What now!?” I yelled, but was completely drowned out by the sound of the klaxons.  
  
 _“People?”_ Fox spoke directly into my thoughts, and I presumed both Velvet’s and Coco’s as well by how they both looked to him. _“We’ve got Grimm.”  
  
“How many are we talking?”_ Coco asked, and I blinked when I heard _her_ voice in my thoughts instead of Fox’s. Oh… psychic conference call?  
  
 _“All the noise is helping my ADA get a good read,”_ Fox explained, _“and I’m getting… shit. I think that’s an Ursa Major.”_ I went to the window Fox was leaning out of, and took a good look. Sure enough, there it was, flanked by five normal Ursai and what had to be multiple packs of Beowolves. And what’s worse, this was a _big_ Ursa Major; its paws alone had to be half my size.  
  
 _“What do we do?”_ Velvet asked, hands still held protectively over her ears. A moment later the klaxons cut off, and she sighed in relief, only to tense again now that we could hear the sound of the Grimm outside.  
  
 _“Belladonna, how good are you against a target like that?”_ Coco asked, swinging her purse so that it hung on her right side.  
  
 _Practically what I’m best at,_ I thought. When Coco waved a hand at me, I grimaced, and tried again, trying to put extra focus in _projecting_ my thoughts in their direction. How did Velvet manage to do it on her first try? _“May as well be my specialty,”_ I said. _“What are you thinking?”  
  
“Not long,”_ she said, stepping out of the treehouse and onto its branches. _“Fox, Scarlatina, handle the Ursai. Belladonna, keep the Major busy. All three of you, herd them away from the Beowolves; leave those to me.”  
  
“A-are you sure?”_ Velvet asked, worry in her eyes. Coco lowered her sunglasses and gave Velvet a grin.  
  
An instant later, her purse unfolded into a massive gold-and-brown minigun, and its barrels began to spin, warming up to fire.  
  
 _“I think I can handle it,”_ she said. _“Lady and gents, pick your targets. We drop in five.”_ Velvet handed Claw back to me, and I gave her a thankful nod as she pulled her mechashift staff out, and expanded it into a spear. Fox flicked the safety on the weapons he wore upon his wrists, and set himself into a ready stance. _“Now!”_  
  
The four of us jumped from the branches, and both Fox and I fired one of our weapons upwards to push us down faster. The two of us struck first; he buried both of his blades squarely into the back of an Ursa’s neck, and then with a quick wrench of his arms, decapitated it, and bled off the rest of his momentum flipping off of its swiftly-dissolving corpse.  
  
Meanwhile, I sunk Claw deep into an unarmored segment of the Ursa Major’s back, drawing a roar. Grimm change pitch depending on if it’s ‘pain’ or not—I don’t actually know if Grimm _can_ feel pain, though—and could tell from the sound that I hadn’t done much more than annoy it.  
  
That was fine, I thought as Velvet struck an Ursa with a sweep of her spear-staff, and cut off the Grimm’s arm, and the whine of Coco’s minigun heralded the beginning of a hail of bullets. I flicked the fire mode and pulled Claw’s trigger, emptying half of its magazine into the Ursa Major, then yanked my gunblade out of its back. Not a moment too soon, in fact, as it reached up with one massive arm, and swiped at me; I left a swiftly-fading copy of myself behind (thank you, Blake!) and leapt back a few paces, herding it away from the rest of the Grimm.  
  
At the same time, Coco’s minigun finished its warm-up, and at the same time as a tug in my gut, she rained death onto the Beowolves. She swept her gun across in a smooth, controlled line, practically cutting the Grimm in half with how carefully she kept the gun level.  
  
My eyes widened and I rolled to the side, though the Ursa Major still clipped me in the side with its claws, taking a chunk of my Aura with it. I’d let myself get distracted watching Coco’s gunplay, and though I doubt anyone else watching would blame me, it was still _sloppy_. The Grimm roared its challenge, and charged. As it bore down on me, I brought my right arm up and laid Fang flat across it, lining up my shot as it got closer. Breathe in, breathe out. I focused on that feeling in my gut from when Coco started firing, held my breath… and pulled the trigger.  
  
I felt my Aura noticeably drop as the Dust round fired, slamming into the Ursa Major’s shoulder. The Grimm’s black flesh _apart_ as its front right arm was completely severed from its body, and it landed hard on the ground as it was suddenly knocked off-balance. Coco turned from where she’d finished utterly _destroying_ the Beowolves, and seeing that the Ursa Major was a sitting duck, unloaded her minigun onto the grounded beast. With concentrated fire, she blew a hole straight through the massive Grimm.  
  
Velvet and Fox finished up with the remaining Ursai just in time to see Coco finish turning the Major into pulp, which itself began to dissolve within an instant of the Grimm finally giving up the ghost.  
  
 _“What kind of Dust are you packing in that gun of yours, Belladonna?”_ Coco asked, lightly furrowing her brow while staring where the Ursa Major’s severed arm lay.  
  
 _“C-can we get out of the forest first?”_ Velvet said, waving at all the dissolving Grimm around us.  
  
 _“At least one of you has her priorities straight,”_ Fox said, reloading his weapons while he stood there watching us. _“Come on, the cliff is this way.”  
  
“Aren’t we forgetting something?”_ Coco asked. The lot of us turned towards her, and she waggled the miniature macaw figurine in her hand. _“The birds are still up in the treehouse.”_  
  
I looked at Coco and Velvet. The two of them glanced over to Fox… who promptly put his finger to his nose. Coco and Velvet followed suit immediately, then all three of them turned to me with identical grins on their faces.  
  
 _“... we aren’t_ seriously _deciding this with_ nose goes _, are we?”_ I asked, sighing physically while speaking mentally. I knew the answer to that one though (or at least I could guess), and made my way over to the tree trunk before making my way back _up_ the damn thing. I took my sweet, sweet time climbing up though, to the point that once I’d retrieved both birds and gotten back down to the ground, Coco had fully reloaded her minigun and folded it back up into… I’m not sure actually. Does the minigun go _inside_ the purse, or _is_ it the purse?  
  
 _“It is the purse,”_ Coco said, once she caught onto where I was looking. _“I have other bags for just casually going out.”  
  
“Cliff please,”_ Fox said, and Coco rolled her eyes before the two led the way back to the beginning of our day. I pulled alongside Velvet as we followed them, giving her a small smile.  
  
“Okay,” she whispered, “maybe they’re not _so_ bad.”  
  
“Something tells me that we’re going to be reconsidering that the moment Coco manages to drag us into a clothing store,” I whispered back, and Velvet looked torn between whether she wanted to smile or scowl at the thought.  
  
 _“I heard that,”_ Coco said into our minds, courtesy of Fox’s Semblance. _“And believe me, we_ will _be updating your wardrobes sooner rather than later!”  
  
“I was afraid of that,”_ I groused, which did send Velvet into a small fit of giggles.  
  
 _“It’s not_ that _bad,”_ Fox assuaged. _“Just… remember that it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”_  
  
Oh.  
  
Oh dear.  
  
  


  
*** * * * ***

  
  
  
As it turned out, we’d been beaten to the punch by the Mistralian quartet. They’d apparently decided to just run for it once they’d gotten both the birds and figurines, rather than fight off a horde of Grimm like we had.  
  
But now, the Initiation was over with. We were in an auditorium, surrounded by Beacon’s faculty and other student years, having our teams formalized and named. I’m going to be honest; I was zoning out most of them. They just didn’t really matter to me that much.  
  
The current team being assigned though… it was those four Mistralians. And I’ll admit it. They interested me. Especially since I felt a tug in my gut the moment one of them walked by.  
  
“Homer Illias, Thea Hesiod, Virgil Aeneas, and Ovid Apeiros.” The four of them all wore garb that was very… historical Mediterranean, I guess you could say. Homer had on a chiton, with a spear and shield slung upon his back; the spear seemed to have the pointy end on one side, and a gun barrel for the other. He was an otherwise… unremarkable person. Brown hair, brown eyes, olive skin. By contrast, Thea was a short, pale young woman with silver hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing practical armor. Hanging by her sides were the flails I’d seen earlier, mechashifted to be smaller and not… well, spiky. Virgil Aeneas was a Faunus, grey wolf if I was right, and dressed almost identically to Homer. Lastly, Ovid Apeiros was a gangly young man, all arms and legs and too little torso… and a very apparent unibrow.  
  
“The four of you retrieved the great horned owls. From this day forward, you will work together as Team IVHO, pronounced Ivory, led by Homer Illias.” The four of them bowed and left the stage. Moments later, a new quarter of images appeared, and both Velvet and I nearly wound up bowled over as a _very_ boisterous blonde forced her way past us.  
  
“Sorry!~” Moira said back towards us, even as she clambered up the steps with what had to be her new team.  
  
“Tristan Briarthorn, Moira Redpath, Gavin Greenbelt, and Lance Lakeshore.” Moira I’d seen before, but Gavin and Lance… I frowned. Those were the two boys I’d noted earlier who had been, if I was right, rating the various female applicants’ attractiveness. Gavin was a classic Aryan ideal: blonde hair, blue eyes, tall, broad, and proud. Lance had a slightly darker skin tone and was a touch shorter than Gavin, and additionally, looked like he put a fair bit of time into getting his hair _just_ right. I’m serious; I could smell the hair gel on _Moira_ , and one glance at her unruly blonde mane was enough to realize she probably didn’t know the stuff existed. Moira’s last teammate, and most likely her partner, was a slim young man with long, straight brown hair, pulled back into a well-kept ponytail. He also had one of the more interesting weapons I’d seen at Beacon thus far: a bow that had blades on the outside of its arms.  
  
“The four of you retrieved the common ravens. From this day forward, you will work together as Team BLGR, pronounced Bluegrass, led by Tristan Briarthorn.”  
  
“But—aww, why does my initial have to come last!?” Moira half-yelled, her despair melodramatic. In response, Tristan sighed, opened up a small pouch on the side of his bow’s quiver, and…  
  
… oh my goodness. He didn’t… he _did_.  
  
A moment later, Tristan had gotten himself set up, and _began to play the smallest violin I had ever seen_.  
  
Just. For. Moira.  
  
“Well _screw you too!_ ” She yelled, grabbing the entirety of her team and dragging them off the stage. This was particularly amusing because Moira is barely five feet tall; everyone else on her team had an entire foot on her.  
  
 _“Somehow, I don’t think any of you saw_ that _coming,”_ Fox said. _“I know I didn’t.”_  
  
Mine, Coco’s, and Velvet’s faces all turned into some kind of grimace as we gave Fox shit for making a blind joke. All of that stopped, though, as the monitors changed, the images on them finally resolving into ours. The four of us stepped up to the stage, facing Headmaster Ozpin.  
  
“Coco Adel, Fox Alistair, Velvet Scarlatina, Noah Belladonna. The four of you retrieved the macaws. From this day forward, you will work together as Team CFVN, pronounced Caffeine, led by Coco Adel.” I could practically _feel_ the smugness radiating from Coco at that pronouncement, and Fox’s shoulders slumped.  
  
 _“Great,”_ he said. _“She’s going to take this as license to come up with a team dress code, or worse: team_ uniforms _.”  
  
“I’m not _that _bad,”_ Coco protested.  
  
 _“You threw out my entire closet three weeks after we met,”_ Fox said.  
  
 _“Your closet was an abomination, and you couldn’t even tell.”  
  
“Please don’t make the obvious blind joke?”_ Velvet asked. _“I’ve heard five in the last hour. I’d barely heard five in the last_ year _before that!”  
  
“Fine,”_ Fox said, huffing. _“Buzzkill.”_  
  
“With that,” Headmaster Ozpin began to speak, drawing our attention back to him, “the Initiation Ceremony is properly concluded. To our new first years, welcome to Beacon Academy. To our returning students, welcome back. I hope you’re all prepared; classes begin in earnest _tomorrow_. First years, you can find your dorms by exiting the auditorium to my right, going up the first flight of stairs, and taking the second left. Your team names are on the door.” He saluted us with his ever-present mug of… I think it smells like hot cocoa? “Dismissed.”  
  
 _“Alright, let’s find the dorms,”_ Coco said immediately, not even giving us time to stop and smell the roses. _“Team meeting once we get in there, no time like the present.”_ She left the auditorium, and led the way to our destination. Just as Ozpin said, it was up the first flight of stairs, and down the hallway on the second left. Team CFVN’s room was the very last one on the right side side, which thankfully meant we only had to deal with one possible set of noisy neighbors.  
  
We opened the door to our new dorm room to see four beds, two on each side, with a large dresser set between the inner two. The dresser itself sat in front of a very large window, with a thick scarlet curtain hanging over it. I was the last to enter the room, and closed the door behind us.  
  
“So… how are we doing bed assignments?” I asked.  
  
“I-it’s co-ed?” Velvet asked, her voice rising in pitch as she looked over our new living space. “B-but what about—”  
  
“There’s a bathroom and shower/bath adjoining,” Coco said, pointing it out. “But if we’re being realistic, I’d wager privacy stops being much of an issue after a bit. And besides, we only really have one person to worry about peeking.”  
  
“I grew up with a sister,” I said, crossing my arms defensively. “I already know better. Anyway, bed assignments?”  
  
“Girls on the inside, boys on the outside, share a side with your partner” Coco said. “Fox gets the one next to the outside-facing wall. Unless there are any objections?” she asked.  
  
“None here,” I said. “Puts me closer to the bathroom.” Velvet shook her head after this, showing that she likewise didn’t have any issues with it.  
  
“Alright,” Coco said, clapping her hands as she sat down on her bed and crossed one leg over the other. “With that out of the way. We need to know what each of us is capable of, especially if we want to be an effective team. Headmaster Ozpin saved us for last in the team assignments, and I’ll be _damned_ if we don’t show everyone that he saved the best for last. With that in mind, I’ll go first.” Coco smirked, and brought her purse up front. “This is Gianduja. She’s a minigun that mechashifts all the way down into a compact purse. Her rate of fire is anywhere from two-hundred to two-thousand rounds per minute. I call my Semblance ‘Hype’; it lets me use some of my Aura to amp up my firepower. What you would get from firing ten bullets, I can get from just one.” She reached over and tapped Fox, who had sat at the foot of her bed as well. “Your turn, hun.”  
  
“You’ve already seen my Semblance,” Fox said, “and seen me in action. But my Semblance also lets me sense when people are nearby, and I can recognize people by the ‘feel’ of their thoughts. I can also pick up a person’s surface thoughts if I’m focusing; not much more than ‘I’m hungry’ or ‘I wonder if I have time to check out the sale’.” Coco scowled a bit and nudged at him. “Once I’ve set up a link, it doesn’t cost any more of my Aura unless I have to add someone else in. I’m still not sure what the limits on my Semblance are, but I just need to keep pushing the boundaries.”  
  
“Do you think you’d be willing to try and let people share sensations with each other?” I asked. “If we could all hear or see what the rest of us can, that would be a _huge_ advantage.”  
  
“I… haven’t tried,” Fox admitted, a pensive expression on his face. “Don’t know how well it will work.”  
  
“Noah raises a good point though, we won’t know until we try,” Coco said. Then she waved at my partner. “You’re up, Velvet.”  
  
“U-um.” Velvet reached behind her, bringing her staff out. “I c-call this Aperture, um… i-it’s a very modular mechashift weapon. My Semblance… I have perfect visual recall,” she revealed. “And if I see somebody move a certain way, I can copy it perfectly. Handwriting, gait, fighting style… anything that isn’t Semblances.” Velvet paused for a second. “I… I’ve wanted to try something else for a weapon, that would work better with my Semblance… b-but my idea needs hard light Dust, and…” She murmured the rest, in a voice almost too low to hear. “T-they… don’t sell that to Faunus.”  
  
I sat down next to Velvet on her bed and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked at me and put her hand over mine, squeezing lightly.  
  
“That won’t be a problem anymore,” Coco said. “Beacon supplies us with all the Dust and raw materials we need. And if there’s anything you need specially-made that Beacon doesn’t provide, let me know,” she added. “I have _money_ , and if I’m just sitting on it when it could help my team, it’s going to waste. Anyways, last, and hopefully not least! Noah?”  
  
“Right, right,” I groused, reaching behind myself to pull out my gunblades. “These are Fang and Claw. Fang’s a longer weapon with a larger caliber round in a hand cannon. Claw’s a bit shorter, but can switch between semi-automatic with full recoil, or full-auto with recoil compensation. I demonstrated the weapons’ capabilities by mechashifting them into gun form, then gunblade form, and back to folded for stowing. “As for my Semblance, I call it Copycat.”  
  
“Oh! Like those doubles you leave behind sometimes?” Velvet asked.  
  
“Yes… and no,” I said. “My Semblance doesn’t let me copy myself.”  
  
“Wait,” Coco said, a look of dawning comprehension on your face. “When you blew off the Ursa Major’s arm. That… was that _my Semblance_?”  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” I said with a feral grin. “There’s some conditions. Passive becomes active. I can only use it to the extent that the actual owner has while I was close to them. And only one at a time. But it means that any time somebody uses their Semblance near me, I get to throw it around myself. And what’s more? I can sense when somebody is using an unfamiliar Semblance near me, or one that I’ve already copied in a manner I haven’t seen or experienced before.”  
  
“... I need a moment to process this,” Coco said, putting both hands behind her on the bed and leaning back. “A force amplifier. Unbreakable communications. And the ability to use anything that _any_ opponent has ever used against _any other foe_.”  
  
If I’d thought my earlier grin was feral, then the expression on Coco’s face was downright _predatory_.  
  
“Noah, try to keep your Semblance use hidden,” she said. “If you do that, then we have four people whose Semblances aren’t readily apparent, even when we’re using them. You’ve already used those doppelgangers, so just pass that off as your Semblance for now. Fox, keep the thought-comms limited to our team. And Velvet?”  
  
“Y-yes?” She asked.  
  
“All those fighting styles you’ve probably picked up by now? Let’s see if we can’t find a few that work _really_ well with the rest of us. Now!” She clapped again. “I think we all still need to unpack and get settled.”  
  
“Sounds good!” Velvet said, hopping up with a smile. I stood up after her, then tried to contain my surprise when my Scroll buzzed.  
  
“Ah, give me a minute,” I told Velvet and the other two, then turned around to check my Scroll, my eyes narrowing when I saw it was from Sienna.  
  
 _Some of Tukson’s information from Vale chapter was bad. Unsure if failure or intentional. He may have been burned; be wary._  
  
My blood ran cold at that. If Tukson was suddenly forced out of the loop for his loyalty to Sienna over _Adam_ , then I’d lose access to any reliable way of keeping track of the Fang’s Vale chapter. If that happens, my only source of information becomes Blake. And what happens if—no, not if, _when_ Blake decides to leave? I know where she’s _supposed_ to end up… but there’s eight months missing. Eight months where I don’t know where my sister will end up, or what kind of danger she’ll be in.  
  
I refuse to let her suffer through that alone. I refuse to let her go through the paranoia or the terror of—  
  
“Noah?” Velvet put a hand on my arm, her voice worried. “Is… is everything alright? You’re really tense,” she said.  
  
“Y-yeah,” I said. “Just someone I’d rather not have heard from.”  
  
“Alright,” she said, pulling her hand away. “Come on, we’ve gotta unpack fast if we want _any_ closet space!”  
  
I bit back the groan at that, and looked to where Coco had _already_ set up dividers and organizers in the closet on her and Fox’s side of the dorm. Shit, she had a point, didn’t she?  
  
“You’ve probably got more stuff that needs to hang in the closet, so get yours in there first. I’ll run interference if Coco decides to try and steal more closet space than she’s allowed.”  
  
“I heard that!” Coco yelled across the dorm.  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll hold her back if she tries to take you two’s half of the storage,” Fox said, which had Coco spinning around with a faux-betrayed gasp.  
  
“ _Fox Alistair_ , how _could_ you? Can’t you see what your words have done to me?”  
  
Fox turned towards Coco, and waited. Velvet and I both suppressed our groans, even before he said what we _knew_ was coming.  
  
“Of course not,” Fox finally spoke, after ten seconds of silence. “I’m blind.”  
  
Coco’s head hitting the wall was probably the funniest thing I’d seen all _week_.


	5. Chapter 5

_“So, does anybody have even the slightest clue what we were supposed to be learning in there?”_ Fox asked as we exited Prof— _Doctor_ Oobleck’s classroom, dazed and confused.  
  
 _“I_ think _it had something to do with the founding of the four Kingdoms?”_ I suggested, frowning with just as much confusion as Fox felt. _“Velvet? Can you fill us in?”  
  
“I-I’m sorry, my Semblance is visual only,”_ Velvet said, her shoulders and ears slumping. _“I don’t actually know what all he said…”  
  
“Note to self,”_ Coco said, flicking out her Scroll. _“Get Velvet some lessons on lip reading…_ oh _!”_  
  
Velvet, Fox, and I all froze. Fox had the advantage of years being in Coco’s company, but all it took was _three days_ for Velvet and me to pick up on when she was about to _suggest_ something.  
  
And by ‘suggest’, I mean ‘put forth as a possibility, put it to a vote, get at least a 2-2 because her suggestions were always at least a _little_ reasonable, and then use team leader prerogative to break the tie in her favor’.  
  
 _“Early bird clearance sales in downtown Vale!”_ She turned towards the three of us with a big smile on her face. _“If we head over there now, we can get in before the ads finish going out and stores get crowded. What do you say?”_  
  
Fox gave a thumbs-down. Velvet also gave a thumbs-down. Then they both turned to give me a plaintive look.  
  
 _“... I actually have somewhere I sorta-wanted, sorta-needed to go in Vale,”_ I admitted, giving Velvet an apologetic look as she deflated. _“I’ll vote in favor, on_ one condition _: we stop by that store first, and I go in alone. The owner’s a family friend, and apparently has something to tell or give me.”  
  
“And with a two-two vote, that means it goes to the leader to break the tie!”_ Coco said, smiling. _“Alright team, get changed, we’re going into town. Velvet, hope you’re ready for a wardrobe update! Noah, we_ are _getting you into some leather pants. And Fox? We’re getting you a couple sweaters or jackets; I saw you shivering earlier.”_  
  
Velvet gave me a bit of a glare, crossing her arms over her chest with a humph and pouting. I know she was trying to be mad, but she was _adorable_. Fox, on the other hand, came over and put a hand on my shoulder.  
  
“You let me down, man,” he said aloud. “Gods, how didn’t I see this coming?”  
  
All of us stopped and gave him a _look_. Interestingly, it was none of us who made the obvious repartee.  
  
“Because you’re _fucking blind_!~” Moira Redpath said, coming up from behind Fox and smacking him upside the head. “Hey Noah, Velvet!”  
  
“Hey Moira,” I greeted her, and Velvet did the same with a little wave. She’d been spending as much time as possible with Velvet and me these past few days; I’d wager it had something to do with Lance and Gavin, the other partnership on her team, but I wasn’t exactly going to say that out loud. “What’s up?”  
  
“Ah, not much, was gonna go visit my dad, talk to him a bit. Haven’t done it in a bit, figured I should go keep him up to date with things, you know?”  
  
“Yeah, that…” I trailed off, frowning. “Thanks for reminding me, Moira. Hey Coco, mind if we stop by the post office while we’re in town?”  
  
“What, can’t you just give your family a call?” Moira asked, frowning.  
  
“Menagerie,” I said. “No CCT signal out there. So… no,” I frowned. “I can’t just give them a call.”  
  
“Oh.” Moira deflated a bit, frowning. Then she perked back up and gave me a pat on the back. “Hey, if you’re already sending a letter, may as well send some souvenirs! Anyway, gonna head off; see you around!”  
  
“Bye Moira!” Velvet said with a wave, and I made sure to offer a wave too. We turned back to our teammates, and caught their frowns. “W-what is it?” Velvet asked.  
  
“I-it’s nothing,” Coco said, eager to change the topic. “Anyway, we can stop by the post office for you Noah. Now go get out of your uniforms, and let’s hit the town!”  
  
“Fine…” Velvet slumped, her ears falling.  
  
“I said I was sorry,” I whispered to her.  
  
“Yeah, I know,” she said, nudging me with her shoulder. “Hey, that bit about Menagerie not getting CCT service… that’s part of the answer about living there I won’t like, isn’t it?”  
  
“It is,” I confirmed for her. “The absolute fact is part of it, but the reason…” I shook my head. “We can get into it later. Right now, we’ve got some errands to run.”  
  
“I hope she doesn’t try to make me wear something _too_ crazy,” Velvet said with a wrinkle of her nose.  
  
“If she does,” I said with a conspiratorial grin, “we give it to her instead and push her into the dressing room.”  
  
“I’ll help,” Fox said. “After all, turnabout’s fair play.”  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
Like Coco had promised, our first stop was Tukson’s Book Trade. It was a fairly nice store, the name printed in gold lettering on the green awning above the store, and its initials imprinted upon the windows, just above its twin taglines: “Every Book Under the Sun” and “New & Used Books”. The tagline wasn’t _entirely_ accurate, though, given that he didn’t have _every_ book under the sun.  
  
But on the few occasions I’ve seen him called out for it, he had a pretty snappy response: “Under the _sun_ ; unfortunately, there’s a few under the _moon_ I haven’t been able to get.”  
  
I turned to my team, the two of them who could observing the store with interest. Fox just leaned against the glass, tapping away at his Scroll… which he couldn’t see… and that had a cover over the screen.  
  
Huh.  
  
“Hey Fox, how are you doing that?” I asked suddenly.  
  
“Hm? Oh,” he said pushing off of the window for a second and extending a hand. I obliged, reaching over with mine, and he guided my fingers to the little cover he had over his Scroll’s screen. The cover, whose surface was dotted with bumps and ridges that felt like letters.  
  
“Oh damn,” I said. “That’s handy.”  
  
Velvet and Coco both turned and gave me the stink-eye. I caught a glimpse of Fox’s expression, and I could see him fighting so, _so_ hard to keep his smile small.  
  
“I did it again, didn’t I?” I sighed.  
  
“Sorry Coco, you’re not my favorite anymore,” Fox said, finally letting his smile go. “I see great things in your future, Noah.”  
  
“No!” Velvet yelled suddenly. “No, you very well don’t!”  
  
“Wow,” Fox deadpanned. “Taking it out on the disabled guy. You’re horrible, Velvet.”  
  
“Y-you—urgh!” Velvet groaned. Then she grabbed me by the shoulders, turned me around, and pushed me towards the store’s door. “Just, just get your business over with!”  
  
“I said I’m sorry!” I protested, but Velvet just opened the door, huffed at me, and pushed the door back shut behind me. I pinched the bridge of my nose between two fingers, closed my eyes, and sighed. “I swear to whatever gods want to listen…”  
  
“So that’s your team, huh kid?”  
  
I turned around to see the speaker coming out from behind the register, walking towards me with a fond smile on his face. Tukson was part of the old guard of the White Fang, those first few activists that joined Dad in his stand for Faunus rights. He had short black hair and a… well, I hesitate to call it a beard. It looks much more like his sideburns go far down his face, and he keeps his nose and mouth area clear. Actually, you know what? Reverse goatee. We’ll call it a reverse goatee, because damn it, that’s what it looks like.  
  
“Yep,” I said as Tukson walked around me, flipping the sign in his door from “OPEN” to “CLOSED”. He brought his fingers to the panel next to his door and slid down, Dust turning the windows from clear to frosted. I could hear Coco’s moue of disappointment from where she was _still_ pressing up against the glass, trying to look inside.  
  
“So which one’s your partner?” Tukson led me around the desk and into the back, where the two of us sat down on boxes of new books from a major Atlas publisher that he’d yet to unpack… and probably wouldn’t for a while, because he preferred to give smaller and newer authors shelf space. “The other guy? Sunglasses? Or Ears?”  
  
“The rabbit Faunus. Her name’s Velvet,” I said, still not quite letting my guard down. Tukson’s most recent information had been wrong, after all. “The other two are Coco and Fox. Good people.”  
  
 _“Everything okay in there?”_ I heard a voice ask in my thoughts. It was Fox. _“Vel’s a bit worried she can’t hear you anymore.”  
  
“We’re good,”_ I replied back. _“Tukson’s a friend of the family; don’t worry, I’ll let you know if something comes up.”  
  
“Right,” _Fox thought my way. _“Sorry to bother you.”_  
  
“You alright?” Tukson asked, a look of concern on his face. “You sorta zoned out for a moment there.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. “That was Fox; his Semblance lets him project his thoughts into your head, and read any thoughts you direct his way,” I lied. I wasn’t going to tell him the full mechanics of Fox’s Semblance until I well and truly _knew_ he was above reproach.  
  
“That’s not what you told _me_ ,” a new voice broke in. I jumped up from where I sat and turned towards the top of Tukson’s filing cabinet. Atop in a cross-legged stance, her tattoos covered by Valean clothing, sat Sienna Khan, smirking down at me like the cat that got the canary. “How did you describe it to me? Oh, yes.” She hopped down from the filing cabinet and walked over, then stole the box I’d just been sitting on for herself. “A ‘psychic conference call’, I believe you said?”  
  
“You have no idea how good it is to see you and Tukson in the same room,” I said, much of the tension I’d been carrying in my shoulders for the past few days falling away like water as I turned to Tukson. “I’m sorry about that, but after being told some of your information was wrong, I _had_ to assume the worst.”  
  
“I don’t blame you,” he said, arms crossed, a concerned frown playing across his features. “If I were you, I’d have done the exact same thing. Plus, imagine my surprise when the great Lady Khan there has you wrapped up in her chain whip… with your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth.”  
  
I turned towards Sienna and raised an eyebrow. She shrugged.  
  
“There’s a reason the saying is ‘catching somebody with their pants down’,” she said. “Still, when somebody’s in the bathroom, toilets, or showers is a _great_ time to ambush them. You would not _believe_ how many businessmen and politicians believe they’re invulnerable because a guard is posted _outside_ the restrooms.”  
  
“... that’s a detail I probably could have gone my whole life without knowing,” I said with a grimace. “Alright, so. You’re here,” I said pointing at Sienna, “and he still is too,” I pointed at Tukson next. “So I’m _guessing_ this means he’s still trustworthy.”  
  
“Got it in one,” Tukson said, taking the chance to answer. “Problem is, this raised a question that we need an answer to.”  
  
“And in going about making preparations for that, _another_ question was raised.” Sienna took over smoothly, and was looking at me with a pensive expression. “Noah. Several weeks ago, do you remember what my lieutenant in Vale said?”  
  
“That there were no casualties,” I replied immediately. “Which we both know was a lie, because Blake herself told me there _was_ at least one, and by her hand, to boot.”  
  
“What if he _wasn’t_ lying?” Sienna said. I bristled at the accusation, but she brought a hand down on my shoulder and _pushed_. “Don’t get _mad_ , Noah. Instead, _think_. How is it that there can be one objective truth, and two differing stories, but both accounts are truthful?”  
  
How? I wanted to scoff. Gorm had outright stated no casualties, and yet there _was_ a casualty. Which means… wait.  
  
“Both of them could have been telling the truth,” I realized, “if the ‘truth’ that one of them knew was _wrong_.”  
  
“That’s exactly what I realized when Tukson’s information was bad,” Sienna said. “That, and the fact that the overwhelming majority of what he gave was accurate. It was small but crucial details. Casualty count, injury report, spoils. There’s discrepancies, changes to make the information something that would justify me sending additional funds and resources to Vale.”  
  
“So instead, we either have a case of Adam acting unilaterally with regards to the chapter,” Tukson continued, “or a small ‘in-group’ that is actively censoring what information gets out to both the rest of the chapter, and the Fang as a whole. Neither of those is a good thing.”  
  
“So what do we do about it?” I asked.  
  
“Well first, we up how often you talk to Blake,” Sienna said. “Go ahead and tell her you’re in Vale; you could even tell her you’re at Beacon, possibly have your team say hello, if you think they’re trustworthy. Blake is probably the single most accurate source of information we have at the moment. Both you _and_ Adam trust her beyond reproach, and I don’t know her to have ever lied to you about what she does with the Fang.  
  
“Second, I will be joining the Vale chapter on their next operation, along with a pair of trusted operatives. I believe you’ve met Ilia Amitola?”  
  
“Yeah, from Menagerie,” I said. “Never could convince her to leave the Fang.”  
  
“Maybe not,” Sienna murmured. “But she’s the closest I’m going to get to somebody with your philosophy in the Fang at the moment. And I need somebody that I know I can have around Adam without worrying about them picking up his more… _extreme_ leanings.”  
  
“You said a pair of operatives,” Tukson added. “Amitola’s one; what about the other?”  
  
“You remember how I mentioned it was brought to my attention that Gorm could _also_ have been telling the truth?” Sienna said. “The idea came from the friend he originally joined up with. More importantly, she has the skills needed to determine whether the modified information is just coming from Adam, an in-group, or if it’s a change in ideology that’s overtaking the chapter.”  
  
“How?” I asked. “Because that’s _quite_ a tall order.”  
  
“Three words,” Sienna said with a grin. “Invisible cat Faunus.”  
  
I blinked. I looked at Tukson. Tukson looked back at me, his expression reading a similar amount of surprise.  
  
“... is she already with the Vale chapter?” I asked.  
  
“I don’t know,” Sienna said, still grinning. “And _neither do they_.”  
  
“Sienna?” Tukson cleared his throat. “I say this with the utmost respect… but sometimes? You terrify me.”  
  
“Good,” she said. “I may be your friend, but I am _also_ your boss.”  
  
“You’re not _my_ boss,” I mumbled.  
  
“No,” she admitted. “But I have your baby photos.”  
  
I cursed under my breath. Baby photos… the ultimate leverage.  
  
“Just promise me that those will never, _ever_ , end up in my team’s hands.”  
  
Sienna gave me a smile full of teeth. We talked a little bit more, but Sienna never answered the question. That damn, _infuriating_ woman.  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
“Noah, just come out,” Fox said with exasperation in his voice.  
  
“Not until you get Velvet to _put. The camera. Down_ ,” I demanded from inside the changing room, grimacing as I adjusted things as best I could. Dear _lord_ this was uncomfortable; why do people _wear_ this?  
  
“I’m just going to take _one_ picture!” Velvet protested, and I could hear her change the aperture on her camera’s lens. “Or two. Or… all of them.”  
  
“V-Vel!” I yelled, feeling some heat rising in my cheeks. Damn it, she had to pick _now_ to decide to flirt? “Ugh, you— _fine_ , I’m coming out! Just remember, Velvet: _you’re next!_ ” I opened the changing room door and crossed my arms, hoping that my annoyed expression would hide the embarrassment.  
  
The click of Velvet’s camera immortalized that failure forevermore.  
  
“Oh yes,” Coco said, tapping a finger at her lips as she walked around me. “Leather pants _definitely_ suit you.” My right eye started twitching, and I turned around so Coco couldn’t get behind me. “Oh come on, I was just seeing what kind of wonders those do for your ass. I mean, you’re not and never will be my type, but I know a good thing when I see it..”  
  
“Yeah, that’s not gonna keep me from taking them off, putting them back on the hanger, and _never looking at them again_ ,” I fired back, taking a step around Coco to try and get back into the changing room.  
  
“And take away poor Velvet’s eye candy?” Coco asked, lowering her sunglasses so I could see her eyes properly. She glanced over towards Velvet, whose expression had turned into a _mighty_ pout, amplified far beyond what should be legal by the way her ears were practically hanging off of her head.  
  
“... you two play a dirty game,” I said with narrowed eyes, focusing on Velvet. “You have betrayed me, partner. I’m wounded. How dare you.” I went back into the changing room and shut the door, stripped off the leather pants, and tossed them over the top of the door. “Just… get these up to the cashier. Fuck it.”  
  
“I’ll go ring up everything for you and Fox,” Coco said. “And then? I hope you’re ready for some _fun_ , Velvet!~”  
  
I could practically imagine the expression of panic on my partner’s face at that.  
  
“Noah? H-help?” Velvet asked, her voice suddenly small.  
  
“You sentenced me to leather pants,” I fired back. “What is it Fox said earlier today, Velvet? Oh, right! Turnabout is fair play.” I opened up the dressing room door, back in my favorite jeans. A quick look showed me Fox was tapping away his Scroll again, and Coco was nowhere to be seen. “Look. If she wants you to try on something that makes you really, _truly_ uncomfortable, just let me know and I’ll veto it. Okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Velvet said. Then, in a move that surprised me, she came up and gave me a hug. I’ll admit, I made a noise of surprise, and sort of stood there for a second before remembering to hug her back.  
  
“Alright,” Coco said, coming back towards us. “That’s paid for, and we’re ready to—oh you two are just _adorable_.”  
  
Velvet and I jumped apart, her with a squeak, and both of us with blushes. Coco let out a laugh at that, while Fox shrugged his shoulders, though he had a bit of a smile going on.  
  
“Come on you two,” she said, holding back any remaining laughs that threatened to erupt. “Next store’s this way. Specialty place, caters to huntsmen and huntresses. You’ll like it, I promise!”  
  
“I’ll hold you to that,” Velvet said to Coco as we walked past her, and Fox and I grabbed our shopping bags.  
  
“I expect no less,” Coco said, waving to the woman behind the cash register. “See you around, Carmen!”  
  
“Looking forward to your next visit, Adel!”  
  
With that, Coco led us all out the door, and down a few blocks. Along the way, a few people gave Coco and Velvet looks and side-eyes that I didn’t particularly like, fading into sneers once their eyes landed on Velvet’s ears. Coco initially had a smile when she saw the looks sliding off of her, but it swiftly turned into a frown once she saw the second half of the reaction. Fox and I both adjusted so that we were hiding Velvet behind the two of us. Velvet reached up and put a hand on my shoulder, bringing them back down and easing some tension I hadn’t noticed was building up.  
  
“This is normal for you, isn’t it?” Coco asked, the disappointment audible in her voice.  
  
“Welcome to being a Faunus outside of Menagerie,” I said. “You think this is bad? Don’t go to Atlas, or try to walk around the wealthier parts of Mistral.”  
  
“You say that like you have some experience with it,” Fox murmured, and I frowned.  
  
“That’s… its own story,” I said, “and trust me, not something to discuss in public.”  
  
“Well, we’d have to table that discussion for later anyway, because here we are!” Coco stopped in front of the store and turned towards us, planting one hand on her hip while waving towards the door with the other. Velvet and I both turned to take a look, pausing as we got a proper look at what hung in the store window.  
  
One of the mannequins had a long brown greatcoat, what looked like a fake mechashift sword in one hand propped up on its shoulder, the same way I like to hold Fang. It also wore leather pants—which explained a _lot_ about where that idea from Coco came from in the first place—and combat boots with steel plates on the exterior of its toes. That last bit, when I took a look at it, looked like a _great_ idea.  
  
The other mannequin, on the other hand, explained so much more. Because it was wearing what looked like a less-accessorized version of _Coco’s_ outfit. It didn’t have her scarf, the little extra bit she wore around her waist, or the half-skirt on her right side. What it did have was a pair of scabbards along the back, and it posed similarly to how Coco herself liked to carry herself.  
  
There were two last bits of info here. First, was the lettering on the window: _“By Appointment Only”_. And lastly, the name of the store.  
  
 _Adel_.  
  
“I had a feeling I recognized the route,” Fox said, mirth in his voice. “There weren’t _actually_ any clearance sales today, were there?”  
  
“Nope!” Coco said, popping the ‘p’ sound. “Sorry for the deception, but I wasn’t going to risk giving any of you the option to refuse here. I’m family, and even _I_ need a few days’ warning to get time. Now come on, let’s go inside.” With that, Coco pushed open the door, and the rest of us (reluctantly) followed her inside. “Mother, I’ve arrived.”  
  
I stopped at that, and so did Velvet. It was like a switch had flipped, and she went from this hyper-confident, sassy young woman I’d gotten to… _tolerate_ these past few days, and became this epitome of formality and properness. It was even there in the way she carried herself: her stance went from loose and relaxed to a more upright, practiced stance. Her shoulders were back, her chin held high, and her hands were clasped gently in front of her.  
  
“Coco.” A voice came from the back, and moments later a woman pushed aside a fabric curtain and walked out. She wore what looked like an elegant, black evening gown, a high slit all the way up her right leg, almost to the hip itself. The gown was sleeveless, and had an asymmetrical mesh section over her chest; I could just barely see her cleavage through it, but averted my eyes before it started to look like I was staring. The woman walked around the desk, and I saw that her long hair was pinned into an elegant updo, looking like she’d taken a proper two hours working on her hair alone. The click of her heels on the floor had me looking even further up towards the ceiling, as the way she moved her hips did _interesting things_ to the slit in her dress, and the glimpse it gave of her leg.  
  
“Mother, these are my teammates,” Coco said, standing to the side and waving one hand at us. “You are already acquainted with Mr. Fox Alistair.”  
  
“Of course,” she said, regarding him with something that was barely a smile, if you knew where to look. “You are well, Fox?”  
  
“As I can be, Mocha,” he said, giving a short bow.  
  
 _“Try to be on your best behavior,”_ Fox spoke. _“She does this.”_  
  
“This young woman is Ms. Velvet Scarlatina,” Coco said, walking behind Fox and to Velvet’s side.  
  
“I-it’s a pleasure to meet you!” Velvet hurried out, dipping into what looked like a practiced curtsy. Again, looked; I had a feeling this was something Velvet had picked up along the way with that Semblance of hers.  
  
“Likewise,” Coco’s mother— _Mocha_ said, giving Velvet a slight nod. A moment later, her eyes slide over to me, and I noticed that I’d furrowed my brows at her.  
  
“Lastly, may I introduce Mr. Noah Belladonna,” Coco finished, coming around to me. Mocha stepped over and looked down three inches at me—even before the heels, this woman was _tall_.  
  
“Hmm,” she hummed, and I tried not to bristle at the seeming dismissal. “Coco, dearest. Did you realize your teammate is Menagerie royalty?”  
  
 _“W-wait, Noah, you, you’re_ what _!?”_ Velvet shrieked into my mind.  
  
“Unlike the _human_ Kingdoms did when it was formed,” I broke in, “Chieftain of Menagerie is non-hereditary. A decision I see humans wisely chose to _adopt_ after the Great War.”  
  
This was a sticking point of history that we took great pride in over on Menagerie. The Great War’s conclusion saw Menagerie handed to the Faunus. We hadn’t known at the time that nearly two-thirds of the already-small continent was uninhabitable, nor had we gotten any say in its name. The worst part? There’s really no way for my father, or any other Chieftain of Menagerie past or future, to change the name with any ease. Changing Menagerie’s name would require recognition from the four human Kingdoms, and given that Menagerie had been a territory of Mistral before it was ceded to the Faunus in the aftermath (for alongside Mantle, Mistral had been the worst offender with regards to Faunus abuses), they would never agree to such a change.  
  
There’s a lot of confusion with regards to _why_ the four Kingdoms changed from monarchies to (at least on their surface) representative democracies. But just going by the timeline, Menagerie had drafted and ratified its constitution over a _year_ before the Kingdoms’ governments finished their reforms. The popular theory, at least among Faunus up on their history, is that the human Kingdoms saw the Faunus being progressive, got stuck on the idea that the “animals” were doing something better than they had, and followed suit while making sure nobody knew whose idea it _really_ was.  
  
“Fitting he knows his own history,” Mocha Adel said, the ghost of a smile at the corners of her mouth. “Coco, dear. I would suppose that your team is… satisfactory.”  
  
“Thank you mother,” Coco said, still fully prim and proper. “I believe we can put an end to the song and dance.”  
  
Wait, what?  
  
“Oh, but it’s so entertaining!” Mocha Adel said, clapping her hands together with a laugh. I boggled. Velvet boggled. Fox… shrugged.  
  
“You could have told us,” Velvet looked up at him and said, her eyes narrowed and ears lowered dangerously.  
  
Both the Adels looked at her like she’d just spoken in tongues. “But that wouldn’t be any _fun,”_ they said in perfect sync.  
  
I saw Velvet’s ears go from lowered to drooping. Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration.  
  
“Yep,” Fox said aloud, popping the ‘p’ like Coco had earlier. “There’s two of them.”  
  
“With the _fun_ out of the way,” Mocha Adel continued, one hand waving over the inside of her boutique before demurely crossing in front of her. “Welcome to Boutique Adel. As you can no doubt guess, we are a specialty Huntsman and Huntress supply store. Integrating armor and weaponry specifications with fashion design and personal style is our specialty. I’m sure you’ve seen my lovely daughter’s weapon of choice?”  
  
“Um, h-how does a minigun fit into a purse?” Velvet asked while staring at the far wall, eyeing the various mechashift components and Dust-conductive materials displayed there.  
  
“Fitting Gianduja into a designer handbag was an _exquisite_ challenge,” Mocha said, a smile on her face as she followed Velvet’s gaze. “In any case, I believe you mentioned a few things that you wanted done today, Coco dear?”  
  
“Three things,” Coco said, taking the bags containing mine and Fox’s purchases from our hands without so much as a by-your-leave. I was tempted to say something… but you know what? Discretion being the better part of valor, I’d like to _not_ squander a nice source of goodwill and free, quality _stuff_ that might be tapped again in the future. “First, Fox needs his emblem added to these.” She raised the bag containing his purchases. “Second, Noah’s _wonderful_ new leather pants need some up-armoring.” This time she raised the bag with my leather pants, the ones I _still_ wasn’t really sure I actually wanted to have, and then she placed both bags on the counter. “And lastly, Velvet needs a _major_ redesign on her outfit. The bolero is great, but orange is _so_ not her color.”  
  
“B-but I _like_ orange,” Velvet protested.  
  
“Hmm…” Fortunately (or maybe _un_ fortunately), Velvet was wearing a long-sleeve orange turtleneck today. Mocha Adel turned towards Velvet and walked over to her, heels clicking on the floor as she did a complete circuit of my poor partner. “I’m afraid I have to agree with my daughter’s assessment, dear. It clashes with your hair. The bolero, on the other hand? That shade of brown is _very_ flattering. We just need something to complement it… yes, I see it now. Velvet, dear, could you step into the back with me? This won’t take long, I just need some measurements and to try out a few demo pieces I have in stock.”  
  
“I, if it’s not too much trouble,” Velvet said. “I mean, you don’t have to spend so much time on me, I’m nothing special, really!”  
  
“Darling.” One of Mocha’s hands lightly tapped Velvet’s shoulder to spin her around, heading towards the back. “You are my daughter’s teammate. It would be utterly remiss of me not to lend my talents to her compatriots. Well. That, and I get so _few_ opportunities to design for Faunus. Coming up with something that won’t overshadow or detract from, but instead play up the aesthetics of your features? It’s a _challenge_. And I do so relish the chance to do something _new_.”  
  
“I—o-okay,” Velvet said, stopping at the doorway to the back to turn back towards us, a bright, beaming smile on her face. “Thank you, Coco.”  
  
“It was my pleasure, Vel.” Coco did her best to brush it off, but I could see the faint dusting of crimson on her cheeks. Mocha opened the door for Velvet, who quite literally _skipped_ through, a bounce in her step I hadn’t seen since we’d first become partners in the forest. Once the door closed behind them though, Coco got up in my face and pointed a finger in my chest.  
  
“Alright, spill,” she told me. “Menagerie royalty? Does this have something to do with why you don’t put your emblem on anything? _Details_ , Noah.”  
  
“How far do you want me to go?” I asked. “Would you like to know my full damn history? Where I got my name?”  
  
“... actually yes,” Coco said, her expression turning curious. “There’s no color in ‘Noah’, really.”  
  
“Well, it wasn’t supposed to be Noah,” I explained. “It was supposed to be ‘Noir’. But… Mom never shared how it was supposed to be spelled with my father, and she was too delirious from a natural birth to correct him in time.”  
  
“That’s definitely better than what I was imagining in my head,” Fox said. Coco and I both turned towards him. “Please tell me you didn’t forget I was here. I’ve been browsing the shelves the whole time.”  
  
“Sorry Fox,” I said. “Didn’t see what you were up to.” Wait, _shit_ —  
  
“Neither did I.” My hand came up to my face, prompting a chuckle from both Fox and Coco. “But seriously, you didn’t answer the question. Menagerie royalty?”  
  
“Alright, you’re getting the _very short version_ that leaves a lot out, because it would take _hours_ of explanation,” I said. “My father is Ghira Belladonna, the seventh Chieftain of Menagerie. And because I just _know_ you’re about to look him up—”  
  
“Too late,” Fox said. “Started looking the moment you said his name… whoa.” Fox paused, his posture turning a bit defensive. “He’s—”  
  
“The founder of the White Fang,” I said with a grimace. Coco’s eyes widened behind her aviators, and she took a step back. “Keep reading, Fox.” He didn’t need much prompting, and his fingers danced across the cover of his Scroll.  
  
“Stepped down four years ago,” Fox raised his fingers off of his Scroll, turning his head towards me, even though he couldn’t see me. “When the Fang started to get more militant.”  
  
“Yeah,” I said, shoulders slumping. “Look, can we just… leave off there, for now?”  
  
“One last question,” Coco said, eyeing the door to the back of the shop. “What about your emblem? It’s not on anything.”  
  
“Because it would be too easily mistaken for the White Fang’s,” I said with a frown. “It’s a panther instead of a wolf. And after what happened with—” I cut myself off. “After the Fang changed, I chipped the panther’s fang. But… it’s still too similar. I can’t wear it, not after…” I trailed off. _Not after Adam._  
  
“Yeah, I can see how that would sour you to it,” Fox said. Coco and I both turned towards him. “I wasn’t talking literally seeing. It’s not _always_ a joke when I say things like that.”  
  
“—and just tell me which of those designs speaks to you the most!” Mocha Adel opened the door to the back with one hand and walked backwards out of it, leading a brightly-beaming Velvet out into the boutique proper. “And I should have some contacts in Atlas; you let me get those hard-light projectors for you, especially since what you’re thinking is probably best as a specialty order. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear back.”  
  
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Adel!” Velvet said, hopping up and down in excitement. “You have _no idea_ how hard it’s been trying to get those parts.” Mocha’s smile dipped a bit at that, and there was a small twinge of her hands.  
  
“No, I probably don’t,” she admitted, doing a remarkable job of perking up. I harbored no doubts that Velvet noticed though, or that she _would_ notice once she had a chance to review her memory of the day. “Fox, Noah; I should have both of your orders done by the weekend; you can come pick them up on Sunday, or I can have a courier drop it at Beacon, whichever you prefer.”  
  
“Might as well come by,” Fox said. “Could always use more excuses to come into town.”  
  
“Excellent. I will see you then.” Mocha took the bags off of the counter and made her way to the door to the back. “And Coco, honey? Next time you call your father, please don’t do it at eleven o’clock at night?”  
  
“Oops.” I looked to Coco, seeing her with a proper smile. Not a sheepish grin, or a guilty smile. Just a normal, standard smile. Mocha clearly saw it, and rolled her eyes in response.  
  
“I swear, you’re just as incorrigible as he is,” she said. “I’ll see you soon!”  
  
“You too,” Coco said. Then she rounded on the three of us, one hand cocked on her hip. “Alright team, any other errands while we’re in town?”  
  
“More batteries for my ADA,” Fox said. “That’s about it.”  
  
“Well then, let’s be off!” Coco was halfway out the door before she paused, eyeing something on one of the shelves. “Hey, Velvet. Do you still have that beret?”  
  
“Hm? O-oh!” Velvet closed her eyes for a moment, and I could see them moving behind her eyelids. “Yes, it’s in mine and Noah’s closet, on the top shelf, far left, on top of Noah’s jasmine and darjeeling tea tins. Um, why?”  
  
“First, didn’t know you were a tea snob Noah,” Coco said. “But second… think it’d look good on me?” She struck a pose in the doorway. “It’d be a shame to let a quality hat go to waste.” All three of us were very quick to agree.  
  
And once we got back to Beacon, we were even quicker to agree that yes, Velvet’s beret suited Coco very, _very_ well.  
  
“At least it still gets some use,” Velvet said to me that night, as we got into our beds. Coco had turned out the lights once she’d finished washing up, knowing the rest of us didn’t need them.  
  
“Do you regret it?” I asked. “Getting rid of the beret.”  
  
“A bit,” she admitted. “But Fox had a point, now that I think about it. I… think I prefer when somebody likes _all_ of me, not just the part they see.” Velvet gave me a smile, and I felt my heart skip a beat. “Hey, Noah?”  
  
“What is it?” I asked.  
  
“I, um… that is, c-could you tell me more about Menagerie sometime?” Velvet asked. “I… it’d be nice to visit, I think.”  
  
“I can do that,” I told her. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it… but I do think you’d enjoy visiting. At least for a little while.”  
  
“Yeah,” she said. “Anyways. Good night, Noah.”  
  
“Night, Vel.”  
  
  


* * * * *

_“He’s not a threat, Adam!” I yelled back, getting up from my knee and creeping forward. Adam jerked his head slightly in my direction, and I froze. “Blake!” I yelled at where my sister stood, a few paces away from Adam. “Please, get him to stop!”_

_The same moment, over and over again. The moment where I well and truly realized that the future might be beyond my power to change. The moment where I understood that knowledge isn’t power. Knowledge is only a medium for the use of power… and I wasn’t strong enough to change anything._

_Adam’s blade shook as he held it above the human, who looked up at him with tears in his grass-green eyes._

_“Death to the human!” Adam hissed, voice tight. “Death to the SDC!”_

_Adam brought the blade down, and—_

“Agh!” I jerked awake, untensing as I finally shook myself free from my nightmare. My claws retracted, and I inspected the damage; well, at least I’d be getting some use out of my sewing kit.

“Noah?” I looked up, and saw Velvet. She had a look of concern on her face as she peered over at me from where she sat on her bed. “Are you okay? You were having a nightmare.” On the other side of the room, I saw Fox and Coco wearing identical looks of concern. “It… who is Blake? Who’s the ‘him’?”

I sighed, wondering how I was supposed to phrase this. I had to tell them some stuff anyways, and given today was the tenth… I grabbed my Scroll and took a quick peek. Sunday was our agreed-upon “sleep in” day, and it was pretty close to noon already. I figured if I was telling Blake where I was now… a little more couldn’t hurt, would it?

“It’s a recurring nightmare,” I said. “I’d rather not talk about _him_ , but as for who Blake is…” I got out of my bed, and walked towards the bathroom. “Actually, are you okay with waiting fifteen minutes or so? I want to wash the sweat off.”

“Take your time,” Coco said with a smile. “I’m gonna run down to the cafeteria and grab something for us real quick, though. Want anything?”

“Grab me a bagel and some smoked salmon?” I asked. Coco and Velvet both giggled, and though I could _barely_ tell, Fox rolled his eyes.

“What is it with cat Faunus and fish?” Fox asked. “I mean, Velvet’s a rabbit Faunus, and you don’t see her eating carrots all day.”

“Actually, if you gave a rabbit a carrot, they would only eat the leaves on top,” Velvet explained. “Also, you haven’t noticed I don’t put any dressing on my salads?”

Fox stopped for a moment. He turned towards Velvet. Then, he waved a hand in front of his own face.

“Oh, r-right,” Velvet blushed. Fox sighed.

“It’s… it’s okay,” he said, uncharacteristically somber for what I’d thought was him making a blind joke again. “Just remember that if you want me to know some things, you have to actively _tell_ me. Anyways.” He got up from his bed. “I’ll go join you for the food run. Another set of arms. And Noah?” I looked at Fox. “You stink.”

“Why do you think I’m about to shower?” I asked rhetorically. The four of us shared a small laugh, and I closed myself into the bathroom, almost able to forget that uncharacteristic bit of dourness from Fox. Then again, I suppose it would’ve been obvious that there’s parts of his character I hadn’t seen yet. We’d only been on the same team for a bit over a week, really.

By the time I got out of the shower, Fox and Coco had returned with food. And drinks, I noticed when I smelled the familiar aroma of jasmine tea and saw the mug on mine and Velvet’s shared nightstand, alongside a plate piled high with smoked salmon and a pair of bagels.

“Anyway, you asked about who Blake is.” I brought out my Scroll. “If you all could stay quiet until I say it’s okay?” The three of them nodded, and with that, I pressed the dial button.

_“Noah!”_ Blake answered before the first ring could even end. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Velvet’s smile falter for a moment. _“Huh, that’s a new place,”_ she said, her eyes clearly looking at the area behind me. _“Where are you calling from, anyway”_

“That’s how you greet me, sis?” I asked, tone lightly chiding. Behind my Scroll, I could see all three of my teammates’ eyebrows rise. “Not even a hello, straight into asking where I am?”

_“Well, you usually call from one of three places,”_ Blake said. _“That’s not the dock, Sienna’s place, or the fish market, so…”_

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Actually, the answer to that one _is_ part of what I wanted to tell you.” I took a deep breath. “So, um… I’m, uh… not actually anywhere near Menagerie right now,” I said, smiling sheepishly. On the screen, I could see Blake narrow her eyes. “And actually, I’m going to be away from Menagerie for a while, so… you can call me more often.”

_“Noah…”_ Blake’s voice had a hint of a warning in it. _“Did you run away from home?”_

“No, definitely not!” I said. “Mom and Dad know where I am. It’s just… I was getting a bit stir crazy in Kuo Kuana. And after what you told me last time we talked, I figured it would be nice to have me more readily available.”

_“I… yeah, I can see where you’re coming from,”_ Blake said, her expression somewhere between a smile and a grimace. Her ears lay flat, though, telling me exactly where her thoughts lay on that matter. _“But you’re still being cagey, brother dearest. If you’re not on Menagerie, where exactly_ are _you?”_

“Want me to show you?” I asked. Blake’s ears perked up, tilting forward in interest, and I saw both Coco and Velvet put hands over their mouths to stop whatever sounds they were going to make. I got up from where I was standing and went towards the window, pulling the curtain aside to give Blake a full view of where I was.

_“Noah…”_ There was a measure of awe in Blake’s voice. _“That… is that_ Beacon Academy _?”_

“Blake, may I introduce my team?” Blake’s eyes widened, her ears standing at full attention. I turned my Scroll towards the human duo of our team. “The girl who stepped out of a fashion magazine is Coco Adel. Burnt orange is Fox Alistair.”

“Noah, your sister is _adorable_ ,” Coco whispered.

“I wouldn’t know,” Fox said, a scowl on his face.

“Fox, toss me the cover you use for your Scroll for a sec?” I asked. He quirked an eyebrow, but obliged. I laid it over the screen of my Scroll, and grabbed Fox’s hand, letting him run his fingers over it.

_“Um, Noah? What’s with the… thing?”_

“Fox is blind,” I explained. “And he’s got a cool piece of tech that means I don’t have to describe you.”

“... cat ears,” Fox said, blinking. He pulled the cover off of my Scroll, letting me properly see Blake’s deep blush as her ears folded back in embarrassment.

“And last, and most importantly!” I said, turning the Scroll again. “Blake, this is my partner. Velvet Scarlatina.”

Velvet looked at my sister. Blake looked at my partner. Both of their ears perked up as they saw the other.

And then a wicked grin spread across Blake’s face.

_“You know, Noah,”_ she said, her tone full of mischief. _“I always thought you were more of a tail man.”_

I sputtered, blushing a deep crimson, as did Velvet.

“B-Blake!” I stammered, even as she howled with laughter.

_“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”_ She smiled, her expression shifting. _“So… does this mean I get to call you more often?”_ Blake asked, her tone hopeful.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll send you my course schedule, you can call me whenever I’m not busy.”

“You are _such_ a good brother,” Coco teased. I couldn’t help the grimace at her teasing, and from the way she scowled and her ears pinned back, neither could Blake. Velvet walked up and swatted Coco on the arm for that. “Hey, I was just teasing, Vel! Knock it off!”

_“I like your partner already,”_ Blake said. _“Um… one last thing. Noah? Did… did you follow me to Vale?”_

“I mean… yes and no?” I answered. “Think about the options. Haven? Aside from having a Faunus headmaster, no redeeming qualities; hell, we have a _full team of Mistralians_ in our year, what does that say about Haven?”

_“I’ve heard some rumors about Headmaster Lionheart that are… um, not things I’d repeat,”_ Blake admitted sheepishly. _“Anyway, what about the other two?”_

“Well, going to Atlas gets a great big ‘not only no, but hell no’,” I said. “One, too cold, and two, do I _really_ want to be a Faunus in Schnee territory?” Blake literally hissed at that, answering the question for me and drawing chuckles for my teammates. “And as for Shade? Blake… do you _know_ what they use for seasoning in Vacuo? _Sand_. They use _sand_. For _seasoning_.”

“He’s not wrong,” Velvet supplied. “My father’s Vacuan; Mum tells me she had to check his pockets for sand over a year after they were married, and couldn’t let him do any of the cooking.”

_“... I mean, that’s weird. But salt is a seasoning, and that’s a rock too,”_ Blake reasoned.

“Yes,” I said. “A _delicious_ rock! Sand is _sand_!”

_“I’m just messing with you, Noah!”_ Blake laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile at that sound. Blake was clearly doing better. _“So, Velvet right?”_ Velvet pulled next to me in my Scroll’s camera angle, nodding as Blake addressed her. _“Has he started showing off with his swords yet?”_

“Um… they’re actually really nice weapons,” Velvet said. “I… _maybe_ stole one of them and used it during the whole Initiation?”

_“... wow.”_ Blake turned towards me, an impish grin on her face. _“You’re moving fast, brother dear.”_

I sputtered, and Velvet blushed, prompting laughter from Coco, Blake, and Fox.

_“Come on, tell me more about Beacon. I want to hear_ everything _.”_

The four of us happily obliged. By the time we’d finished talking with Blake, a few hours had gone by, and she’d already promised to call me tomorrow after my classes were done.

_“Before I go!”_ Blake fixed me with a look. _“Promise you’ll let me know when you get your first mission?”_

“I will Blake,” I said. “I promise.”

_“Good,”_ she said. _“I miss you, Noah.”_

“I do too,” I said. “I love you, Blake.”

_“Love you too. Bye.”_

Blake hung up, and my Scroll went dark. I looked at the rest of my team.

“So… what do you think?” I asked.

“You are _such_ a big brother.” Coco smiled as she looked at me over her aviators. “So when do we get to meet her in person?”

“I…” My smile faltered at that. “I… don’t know. I’m pretty sure that’s why she was asking me to let her know when we got our first mission.”

“Well, we’re supposed to get those in about a month or so?” Velvet said, pulling out her Scroll and checking something. “Yeah, we get a training mission in five weeks; shadowing a Huntsman or Huntress, it says. H-how do you think that’ll go?”

“Well one thing’s for sure,” Fox said, crossing his arms. “We’ll definitely be giving whichever mentor we get…”

Fox reached over and grabbed Coco’s aviators, drawing an affronted “Hey!” from his partner.

“A dose of Caffeine.”

The three of us all groaned at the joke. Velvet buried her face into my shoulder, even as both our shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.

That’s right, Velvet. Don’t give him the satisfaction. He’s already insufferable.

Don’t make it any worse.


	6. Chapter 6

  
“I hope you all had a good first week at Beacon,” Glynda Goodwitch said as she stood before us, riding crop in one hand and clipboard-Scroll in the other. “Because now that you have become acclimated to your new school, the majority of you are about to become intimately familiar with the _infirmary_.” Professor Goodwitch gestured with her riding crop, and just as _every other time_ she had in my presence so far, I felt a tug in my gut. Her Semblance’s abilities were so wide and varied that every single time I saw her, she expanded what I was capable of. Not that I was going to say anything about that; I’d like to _keep_ my Semblance’s true nature as a trump card, thank you very much.  
  
At Professor Goodwitch’s gesture, the walls of the battle arena set themselves up into a different layout than two weeks ago, when I first attended the combat trials at Beacon. For starters, the arena was about twice as large, and the stands for us to sit in were pushed back to compensate. Additionally, the “cages” on the side that Professor Port had released the Grimm from were nowhere to be seen, and as a result the walls had no seams hidden in them.  
  
“Today begins combat training. We will rotate between team-on-team, pair-on-pair, and one-on-one combat, depending on the day of the week. You will only have combat training on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. This is not an accident; there _will_ be injuries, and you _will_ need time to adequately recover. Do not try to pretend that you are not injured, because I can tell. Do not try to pretend that you _are_ injured, because that is even more obvious. And do not try to intentionally injure your classmates; doing so will lead to your _immediate_ suspension from Beacon Academy, pending an investigation. Is everybody clear?”  
  
All of us murmured our assent, but Professor Goodwitch’s spiel had effectively neutered the atmosphere. What had been a build-up of excitement was now sedate, sober, and serious.  
  
“Once your team has finished their bout you are expected to report directly to the infirmary for a check-up. If you are in an early time slot today, you will be in a later time slot next time, so do not believe that I am giving your classmates an unfair advantage that will not be rectified later. Now. Would Teams DUSC and IVHO, please come down to the arena floor.”  
  
Team Ivory, we knew. They were the Mistralians, who never interacted with anybody other than each other, who nobody ever saw outside of class. Anybody who approached them got glared at, and shut down without even the slightest bit of respect. Even Moira— _Moira_ , possibly the friendliest person in our year, and the easiest to get along with—was turned away without being given anything more than two words and a _look_.  
  
The other team walking down to meet them, Team DUSC, was a rather quiet group. The leader, Yatsuhashi Daichi, was an absolute _behemoth_ of a man; the sword on his back, whose name Velvet had overheard as Fulcrum, probably weighed as much Fang, Claw, _and_ Gianduja together. Despite his size, the few times I’d interacted with Yatsuhashi, he’d been a polite and down-to-earth young man… if a bit obsessive about personal space. His partner was Turquoise Undine, the short fish Faunus that I’d remembered seeing on the same bullhead that I took when coming in. She looked at the Mistralian quartet with fire in her eyes, and it was only a hand from Yatsuhashi on her shoulder that calmed her down. A pair of swords hung at her side, one tinged yellow, the other blue.  
  
The other two members of their team walked up behind them, smiling as they both tied their hair back. Sylvia Evergreen, a young woman with hair and eyes as verdant as her name, pulled her repeating crossbow off her back and checked the arms of its bow while walking up. Her partner, Calliope Indigo, separated the viola she’d been carrying into its neck and body, at which point the both of them shifted, the body growing to double its size as the neck extended into a sword.  
  
Opposite them, Team IVHO readied themselves. Homer pulled a thin strip of white cloth out, and tied it over his eyes before readying his spear and shield. Virgil spun his spear as it shifted, and the slight tug in my gut told me he was doing _something_ with his Semblance to change its shape, becoming more reminiscent of a spear than a simple javelin. Ovid readied his spear, loading the gun mechanism at its other end before he leaned over and whispered something to his partner Thea. Whatever he’d said, her expression turned furious, and the fire Dust inside the flails she carried ignited, moments before the flails themselves closed, doubled in volume, and grew spikes over their entire surface. And worse than that, an instant later, _Thea_ ignited, and a pulling in my gut told me that _this_ was her Semblance.  
  
“Combatants will fight until ring out or their Aura is reduced to twenty-five percent,” Professor Goodwitch intoned. “Ready? _Begin._ ”  
  
Thea took the opportunity to rush forward in a burst of flame, swinging both flails around to strike at either side of DUSC. Turquoise swiped at the air with her yellow sword, and lightning leapt from the Dust crystal I now saw in its pommel into the air, following the chains of Thea’s flails back down to where they wrapped around her arms. The spasm pulled the chains up short, and I saw the rest of DUSC move to try and take advantage of that.  
  
Then they stopped moving, because both Homer and Ovid had opened fire on them, giving Thea time to recover. Yatsuhashi planted his sword in the ground, and both he and Turquoise hid behind it, their bodies turned in profile. Sylvia ducked behind Calliope, who propped her shield up in front of the two of them.  
  
 _“Who do you think’s going to win?”_ Fox asked, and I felt the familiar sensation of somebody watching me as he opened the telepathic link between our team.  
  
 _“I hate to say it, but my money’s on the Mistralians,”_ Coco said. _“It’s clear that the four of them have experience working with each other; they started up a team offensive and covered Hesiod the instant she looked like she’d gotten in over her head. That said, I’m not sure what all they can do. Noah?”_ Coco prompted.  
  
 _“Virgil’s Semblance might have something to do with his spear, and Homer’s is sensory,”_ I filled them in. _“That fire around Thea is her Semblance; Velvet, did you catch what Ovid said to her before the match started?”  
  
“He… he insulted her,”_ Velvet said. _“I… would rather not repeat it.”  
  
“They’re changing tactics,”_ Fox said suddenly.  
  
And he was right. Thea had stepped back behind the rest of her teammates, and was helping Homer and Ovid reload as the two kept laying down covering fire. Meanwhile, Virgil grabbed his spear with both hands and slammed it _into_ the ground, piercing the floor. I felt a tug in my gut again as the floor rumbled slightly, and an instant later a spire of wood burst forth from the floor behind DUSC, reaching out to ensnare them.  
  
Surprisingly, though, Sylvia saw the wood and _smiled_. She jumped straight at it, and an instant later, I felt a tug in my gut as she _disappeared_. Ovid and Homer stopped firing, and whatever Virgil was doing with his spear, he stopped that too.  
  
Only to suddenly go flying back as a foot emerged from _inside his spear_ , followed by the rest of Sylvia, who swiftly unloaded three bolts from her repeater crossbow. She jumped back at where Virgil’s wooden spear still lay stuck into the ground and disappeared from sight the moment she touched it, reappearing back with the rest of her team.  
  
A purple glow surrounded Virgil as the wolf Faunus was suddenly yanked back, out of the arena.  
  
“Mr. Aeneas has been eliminated due to Aura depletion,” Professor Goodwitch said. “You can reclaim your weapon after the match, as its presence has altered the arena.”  
  
The fight continued the moment she finished saying that. Thea ignited, charging forward with a feral roar that would put most Faunus to shame. Turquoise raised her blue sword and used the water Dust in its pommel to try and douse the Mistralian’s flames, but that didn’t seem to do anything but make the fire _grow_. Thea slammed her flails together behind her, and brought them forward in one brutal swing, which hit both Calliope and Turquoise hard enough to throw them out of bounds.  
  
“Miss Undine and Miss Indigo have both been eliminated by ring out,” Professor Goodwitch said.  
  
Yatsuhashi and Sylvia looked at one another and nodded. Yatsu grabbed his sword and waded forward fearlessly while Sylvia laid down covering fire with her crossbow, deterring Thea from striking out with her flails. It took the work of a couple seconds for Yatsu to approach her, and he struck _hard_ with the flat of his blade, whereupon I felt a tug in my gut.  
  
As he did, the fire around Thea went out, and she blinked as though in a daze. Her eyes landed on Yatsuhashi, who had already begun winding up for a second blow, and the fire sprung up around her again. Too slow, though. Far too slow.  
  
One brutal blow from Yatsuhashi’s sword cratered the ground beneath Thea, sending her Aura plummeting into the single digits.  
  
“Ms. Hesiod is eliminated,” Professor Goodwitch intoned.  
  
Homer took his chance and charged forward, spear in one hand and shield in the other. He rushed in and scored a glancing blow on Yatsuhashi, but the moment he did I felt the tug in my gut again, and a dazed look appeared on Homer’s face, visible even through the blindfold. A crossbow bolt to the center of his forehead sent him crashing to the ground, and another two struck a shocked Ovid in the gut, depleting his Aura by half.  
  
“I forfeit!” Ovid called out, dropping his spear.  
  
“The winner of this bout is Team DUSC,” Professor Goodwitch said, her voice still perfectly level. As she began to offer critique to both teams, I instead turned my thoughts inward towards the rest of my team.  
  
 _“If and when we go up against them, Yatsuhashi is priority target one,”_ I told them. _“He can’t be allowed in melee range. That dazed look on Thea and Homer’s faces? Whatever his Semblance is, that’s responsible for it.”  
  
“We still don’t know much about how Turquoise and Calliope fight,”_ Fox said. _“But… one of you with working eyes, what is Virgil’s spear made of?”  
  
“Wood,”_ Velvet supplied. _“I can’t tell what kind though.”  
  
“I think they just drew the wrong card in this one,”_ Coco said. _“Sylvia’s Semblance was a hard counter to Virgil’s, and if I’m not wrong, Yatsuhashi stopped Thea cold.”  
  
“... If that was a pun, it wasn’t your best,”_ Fox said.  
  
 _“Wha—_ damn it _, Fox!”_ She groaned audibly. _“Either way, I don’t think we can—or_ should _, in one case—add any of those Semblances to Noah’s public arsenal for now. We don’t know what exactly Yatsu’s Semblance was doing, and I want that information before we go throwing it around.”  
  
“H-hang on, Professor Goodwitch is about to call the next team!”_ Velvet interrupted, leaning forward as her ears perked up.  
  
“If Teams BLGR and CFVN could come down for the next bout?” Professor Goodwitch asked.  
  
 _“Alright team,”_ Coco said, standing up with a winning smile on her face. _“Let’s show them what we’re made of.”_  
  
We squared off against Team BLGR, and they brandished their weapons with confident grins. Gavin pulled a claymore off his back and stood directly in the sun coming down from the skylight, and I felt a tug in my gut when he did so.  
  
 _“Guys, get Gavin out of the sun immediately,”_ I relayed. _“His Semblance has something to do with it.”_  
  
“Hey Noah, Velvet!” Moira called to us from across the arena, her bastard sword resting comfortably on her shoulder. “I ain’t gonna take it easy on you guys just cause I like ya!”  
  
“If you had,” Coco answered for the both of us, Gianduja unfolding into its minigun form, “I’d be sorely disappointed.”  
  
All of Team BLGR’s eyes widened when they saw Coco’s weapon, and some hushed murmuring erupted among them.  
  
 _“Vel, what’d they say?”_ Coco asked.  
  
 _“They… told Lance to steer Coco to the side?”_ Velvet said, confusion in her mental ‘voice’. _I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what they meant by that.”  
  
“It’s okay,” _Coco assuaged Velvet. _“Alright team, game plan: hammer Gavin hard and get him out of the sun, then get Lance, then Moira. Get close to Tristan, but not too close; there should be a sweet spot where he can’t just smack us with his bow, but also can’t really aim.”_  
  
“Are both teams ready?” Professor Goodwitch asked. All four of us nodded. Across from us, BLGR nodded as well. “Begin.”  
  
An instant later, I felt a tug in my gut, and an ethereal purple chain flew straight at Coco from Lance’s outstretched hand. Coco leapt to the side to dodge, but the chain _followed_ her and wrapped around her waist, then contracted, tugging her and Lance closer to each other.  
  
 _“I—_ fuck _, I can’t aim away from him!”_ Coco yelled over our psychic link.  
  
 _“It’s his Semblance!” I explained. “Alright new plan, focus on Lance and—”  
  
“Move!”_ Fox shoved me out of the way just as Moira’s sword flew through the air where I’d just been, nicking Fox’s arm in the process. I looked over to see Moira sparking with red lightning. Then, she suddenly smirked as her glove lit up with gravity Dust, and her sword flew hilt-first from where it had embedded itself into the far wall, all the way back to her hand.  
  
 _“Velvet!”_ I yelled, pulling Claw off my back and tossing it her way. _“Get Lance down.”  
  
“On it,”_ she said as she grabbed Claw out of the air. A moment later she fired three shots Lance’s way, all of which struck him in the shoulder and chunked his Aura. Velvet extended Claw’s blade and leapt into the fray, as Fox and I turned our attention back to the other three.  
  
 _“I’ll keep Moira and Tristan busy,”_ Fox said. _“You keep Gavin busy; Velvet will get Coco’s fire support back.”  
  
“Roger that,”_ I said. Fox charged forward, firing his guns at Moira and Tristan, who both leapt back to dodge. I, meanwhile, pulled Fang off my back and closed with Gavin, still standing there in his sunbeam with not a care in the world.  
  
“Oh? You gonna try and take my sun?” Gavin questioned, pointing his sword at me.  
  
“Nah,” I said. “Just gonna beat the shit out of you.” Then I leveled Fang at him, brought Coco’s Semblance to the front of my mind, and fired.  
  
My bullet struck Gavin hard in the chest, and just like that, his Aura broke. Except… except it didn’t. My eyes went wide and I looked at the scoreboard, seeing that Gavin’s Aura had been just below half… and was rapidly climbing all the way back up.  
  
An instant later, I felt something take out a chunk of my Aura as Gavin’s sword hit me in the side, sending me flying a short ways before I righted myself, landing on my feet. I looked up at Gavin, approaching me with that cocky _smirk_ on his face, even as the scoreboard showed his Aura climbing higher and higher back up. Then he suddenly grimaced, eyes wide.  
  
“Mr. Lakeshore is eliminated by ring out,” Professor Goodwitch intoned. Then something flew over my shoulder, and the world exploded into noise as I felt a tug in my gut. I flinched and covered my ears, even as I felt something carve away another chunk of my Aura. “Ms. Scarlatina has been eliminated by Aura depletion.”  
  
That had to be Tristan’s Semblance, I thought to myself, wincing as I took a quick look over my shoulder and saw Velvet, hands holding her rabbit ears down as she sunk to the ground, faint traces of purple visible in the air above her. I looked past Gavin and saw Tristan smirking, still in the follow-through stance from firing his bow.  
  
“Damn you,” I muttered to myself, casting a quick glance at the scoreboard before smirking. Bastard thought he could hurt my partner, huh? Well then.  
  
I could hold a Grudge.  
  
Sienna’s Semblance rushed through me as I focused my attention onto Tristan, and I pushed off, cracking the floor as I started moving. Gavin rushed to try and impede me, but Coco had been freed up, and let loose at Gavin’s center-mass with Gianduja. Regenerate your own Aura all you like, but I’m pretty sure all that Dust Coco’s throwing your way is going to win.  
  
“Don’t even _think about it!_ ” Moira yelled, throwing her sword at me. I struck out with Fang and knocked it off course, only to see Moira rushing in with a haymaker aimed at my chin.  
  
Poor Moira. She seems to have forgotten something: I have over a foot on her.  
  
My own hand came up and I grabbed Moira by the forehead, shoving her aside as I bore down on Tristan. Fox had finished reloading both of his guns, and was aiming his shots to herd Tristan towards me, the unwieldy swipes of Tristan’s bow not enough to deter Fox as he danced just inside of Tristan’s weapon’s ‘dead zone’. Finally, Tristan was in position.  
  
I swung out with Fang, biting deep into his Aura. Even as his Aura dropped, the power behind my sword swing grew and grew, and a moment later Tristan’s Aura broke completely.  
  
“Mr. Briarthorn is eliminated by Aura depletion.”  
  
I looked to Fox and smirked.  
  
That smirk turned into a wide-eyed look of shock an instant later, as a _massive_ gust of wind picked the two of us up and tossed us up and out of the arena, where we landed hard on the ground.  
  
“Mr. Alistair and Mr. Belladonna are eliminated by ring out,” Professor Goodwitch intoned, and I could swear I saw a frown on her face.  
  
“Heh!” Moira rested her sword on her shoulder and turned towards Coco, who was busy reloading Gianduja. “Guess it’s just you and _me_!” In a burst of red lightning, Moira cratered the ground beneath her, and bore down on Coco with her sword raised. “ _Oryaaaaaaaa…_ huh?”  
  
All of a sudden, Moira came to a dead stop, a small glimmer of purple surrounding her.  
  
“Ms. Redpath is eliminated by Aura depletion,” Professor Goodwitch said. “The winner is Team CFVN.” The glow around Moira faded, and she dropped to the ground, practically deflating. “Now all of you, gather around for commentary.”  
  
“Damn,” I said, offering Fox a hand up from where we both lay outside the arena.  
  
 _“That was… lucky,”_ he said. _“Way too lucky. We shouldn’t have won that.”  
  
“You think I don’t _know _that!?”_ Coco snapped, shoulders shaking, fists clenched.  
  
“First, for Team CFVN,” Professor Goodwitch said. “You clearly had a strategy going on, but did not account for something incapacitating your heavy hitter. You may want to think about diversifying your approach, having a contingency ready in case that happens again. Next, while trying to keep Briarthorn and Redpath busy was a good idea, Alistair simply did not have what was needed to do it effectively. It would have been better to switch Scarlatina and Alistair. Belladonna, you need to pretend the scoreboard doesn’t exist; you let it distract you multiple times, and took multiple unnecessary hits because of it.”  
  
The four of us slumped, eyes downcast.  
  
“Next, Team BLGR. All of you need to take time working on how to use—or _not_ use—your Semblances. Briarthorn, sound is crucial to your Semblance, but you _need_ to learn how to both use your Semblance _and_ not debilitate Faunus in the area. If I had not interfered with my Semblance, you may have permanently damaged Scarlatina’s hearing. Greenbelt, your Semblance does _not_ make you invincible; as you just saw, a big enough hit, or enough moderately-sized hits, will outpace your Aura regeneration. Lakeshore, you are horribly predictable with how you use your Semblance, and consistently position yourself poorly. If this recklessness continues, I fear you _will_ be the first in your year to die. And lastly, Redpath.”  
  
“I overused my Semblance,” Moira said, deflating. “We had a sure win, and I used my Semblance too much, and we lost because I wanted to hit _real_ hard, and _ugh_ , I’m such a _moron_!”  
  
Tristan took the bow off his back and mechashifted it into a new shape. He brought his mouth up to one part… [and proceeded to play three notes, then dragged out a fourth, final, pitiful note](https://youtu.be/CQeezCdF4mk).  
  
“Oh, _fuck you too!_ ” Moira yelled, dragging her partner down into a headlock.  
  
 _“At least we aren’t as dysfunctional as them?”_ Velvet asked, her tone just barely optimistic.  
  
 _“Somehow I feel that’s cold comfort,”_ Fox said, looking over at Coco and putting a hand on her shoulder.  
  
 _“... we never win like this again,”_ Coco said. _“We never let ourselves need_ luck _to win again. Noah? Velvet?”_ Both of us perked up and looked at her. _“You’re both teaching me to use a sword. I need a holdout weapon.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” _I said, the sudden smile barely managing to overcome my frown.  
  
The lot of us went to the infirmary after that. I had some tenderness where Gavin’s sword got me in the side, and Velvet still had some ringing in her ears.  
  
“If we ever go against them again,” she told me, “I’m bringing earplugs. _Four_ earplugs.”  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
_“Intruder. Identify yourself.”_  
  
“Hmm, I’d rather not.” Sienna Khan lashed out with her chain whip, the bladed dart at the end cutting through the SDC-branded Atlas Knight. It collapsed into pieces as she brought her whip around in several more strikes, neatly cutting it apart at the joints. Three more Atlas Knights stepped forward to assault her, sprouting large blades at the end of their arms, but Sienna felt no worry. Her whip lashed out, shearing through one Atlas Knight’s arm, and another flick of her wrist embedded the bladed end of the arm she’d torn off into another Knight’s head, short-circuiting the robot. Her whip wrapped around the third Knight’s neck, and with a tug, the bladed chain links carved through the thin metal and sent the Knight collapsing to the ground.  
  
The remaining Knights in the hall, a fair ways away, raised their arms as gun barrels extended, firing at Sienna and her squad. She heard a cry as one of her men took a bullet in the chest, his Aura breaking in the process. Sienna grabbed him by the leg and pulled him around the corner into cover, spinning her whip in front of her to deflect as many bullets as possible.  
  
“You’re up,” she whispered, and Adam Taurus stepped around the corner and into the firing line.  
  
He pulled his blade from its sheath and spun it, deflecting the Knights’ hail of bullets as a glow built up about him. With a cry, he brought his sword down his sword in a vicious slash, energy flowing out in an arc and carving through the Knights all the way at the end.  
  
“Let’s move,” Sienna said, and waved for another one of her men to come up. “Tend to his wounds. Amitola, you’re with Taurus and me.”  
  
Sienna, Ilia, and Adam took up places on either side of the large door in front of them. Sienna nodded, and Ilia prodded the control panel with her weapon, the lightning Dust short-circuiting its mechanisms as the fail-safe forced it to open up in case of a power outage. Once it was open, the three of them turned the corner… only to bite back curses and fall back, as they saw the bulk of the SDC’s human security personnel open up at them. Adam deflected several bullets, looking across the now-open doorway separating them with a frown on his face.  
  
An instant later, a cannister rolled across the ground just in front of the Faunus, and Sienna could hardly contain her grin.  
  
“In five,” she mouthed. When the cannister erupted, releasing smoke from its confines, she tapped the count on Ilia’s shoulder.  
  
When the count hit five, the three of them were off. Ilia’s whip lashed out from within the smoke, sending an SDC trooper to the floor, his muscles spasming. Sienna’s whip and Adam’s sword followed it, as Sienna ripped the gun from one of the humans’ hands and used it as a bludgeon, knocking out three of the remaining humans. Adam lashed out with a brutal kick, sending a human crashing into the wall headfirst, and followed up by slicing the next human’s gun in half. He struck with his sheath, taking another human in the throat, and followed up by hooking the man’s gun with his sword and kicking it into another’s stomach. The last human staggered and dropped his gun after Adam fired a shot from Blush, then fell to the ground when Adam struck him in the forehead with the pommel of his sword.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Sienna could see him raising Wilt high overhead, and she didn’t need to look to know the expression that was likely spreading across his face.  
  
“That’s enough Adam,” she said, stopping him in his tracks. He flinched, his shoulders rising, sword shaking in his hand… and then he slashed to the side to clean anything off of the blade, sheathing the weapon as he turned towards Sienna, a frown on his face. “Remember what I told you.” She walked past Adam and led the way towards where previous raids told them the Dust and Lien was being kept.  
  
“... yes, High Leader.” Her ears flicked as she caught Adam’s footsteps following her, his footfalls a bit heavier than they had been before, not as even, less controlled. As Adam walked past her, Sienna cast a glance over her shoulder at Ilia, who had removed her mask.  
  
 _“What do you want me to be looking out for?” Ilia asked her, as the two of them sat inside the tent set aside by the Vale chapter for when Sienna visited.  
  
“Recklessness,” she replied. “Ruthlessness. Any signs of bloodlust or bloodthirst. If he’s saying something to select few. If he’s saying different things to different people.”  
  
“I… see,” Ilia said, shrinking in on herself. “Lady Khan… why me?” she asked. “Why not Blake? I… I mean, she—”  
  
“Cannot be objective where Adam Taurus is concerned,” Sienna replied coolly. “Neither Belladonna can, unfortunately. And at this point, I don’t think most of the Vale chapter could take a long, hard look at its leader, and tell me what I need to know; for them, it’s simply become ‘business as usual’.”_  
  
“Lady Khan.” Sienna turned around to see Adam Taurus walking back towards her, two of his men pushing carts laden with Dust and Lien in front of them. She gave him a smirk, lazily winding her chain whip around her arm by hand. “We have what we came for.”  
  
“Good work,” she said. “Now let’s get out of here.” Adam gave her a bow, and led his men away. Once he’d rounded the corner, Sienna let the grin slip off of her face, and her ears lowered as a frown pulled down on the corner of her lips. “Ilia.”  
  
“Y-yes, Lady Khan?” Ilia asked, voice hesitant.  
  
“Remember what you just saw,” Sienna said. “That’s what you’re looking for.”  
  
“I will, High Leader. You have my word.”  
  
 _“But how will I know what kind of things I need to watch out for?” Ilia asked. “It just… how will I know the difference?”  
  
“Trust me.” Sienna reached out and placed a hand on Ilia’s shoulder, and gave the girl a comforting smile. “You won’t be able to mistake it for anything else. Now come.” Sienna stood, and offered Ilia a hand to pull her up, which she accepted. “We have a briefing to attend.”  
  
As the two of them left the tent, a pair of odd-eyes appeared in the corner of the room.  
  
And beneath them… a wide, toothy grin._  
  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  
_“It’s today?”_ Blake asked. _“Noah, I need details,_ details _! Where are you going? For how long?”_  
  
“We’re going down to get our missions now,” I told her, propping my Scroll up on the nightstand so I could finish checking Claw for dings. Velvet _still_ refused to show me her new weapon, even though it had come in over a _week_ ago. Something about how she didn’t even want to use it until she’d done full disassembly and reassembly enough times to do it blindfolded. And I got that… but we’re Faunus. We don’t have to worry about the whole ‘not being able to see our weapons in the dark’ thing humans do. “And I don’t know where, or how long yet. That’s kinda not up to me; Coco’s the leader, so she gets to pick the mission.”  
  
Five weeks had gone _fast_. I could be cliche and say that time flies when you’re having fun, but I’m not going to, because that was ridiculous. Even so, it was _amazing_ how quickly the days went by when they were full of stuff to do. When we weren’t in classes or doing homework, Coco was drilling us on team tactics. We’d used Moira to twist the rest of Team BLGR into sparring with us more than a few times, though those matches _really_ tended to come down to one of two outcomes: either Coco chewed through Gavin before he could stonewall the rest of us, or Moira hit us too hard and too fast to stop the rest of her team’s follow-up.  
  
Also, I’m annoyed to say that I _still_ haven’t managed to get a copy of everybody’s Semblance, nor have I managed to figure out _what_ some of their Semblances were. Calliope’s, Turquoise’s, and Ovid’s Semblances managed to elude me entirely, and we _still_ hadn’t the slightest clue what Yatsuhashi’s Semblance even _did_. Oh, and the only Professor whose Semblance I’d managed to pick up was Goodwitch’s… and I _still_ felt that tug in my gut telling me she was using it in a new way every time I saw her. It was entirely possible that her Semblance would forever be at least a bit beyond me, but I could hope.  
  
 _“But you_ will _tell me once you find out where you’re going?”_ Blake implored.  
  
“So long as I’m allowed to?” I said. “Yes, of course.”  
  
 _“Good,”_ Blake said with a harrumph. Then her expression softened into a smile. _“I hope you enjoy the mission Noah, really. Love you.”_  
  
“Love you too sis,” I said with a smile of my own. “Talk to you soon.”  
  
 _“Bye.”_ Blake reached forward, and then the video call ended. I sighed, then grabbed my Scroll and shoved it in a pocket before putting Claw on my back again.  
  
“You ready?” Velvet said, peeking her head into our dorm with a smile. “We were just waiting on you to finish up with Blake.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m good.” I got up, adjusting myself because these stupid leather pants _still_ weren’t fully broken in, and got a good look at Velvet’s new outfit. Mocha Adel was right: brown really _was_ her color, but it needed something complementary. They went with black and gold, adding some golden accents to her bolero and boots, gold-color vambraces for a bit of extra protection, and a large golden belt upon which hung her new weapon. She _still_ hadn’t let any of us see it in action, and kept bringing Aperture with her into combat, but she promised we’d see it soon.  
  
“So what kind of mission do you think we’re going to get?” Velvet asked as I walked up alongside her, the two of us heading down to the same auditorium where we’d gotten our team assignments. “Grimm hunting? Defending a town? Oh, aren’t there some things that don’t have anything to do with the Grimm at all?”  
  
“I don’t actually remember,” I said with a slight frown. “But hey, we’ll see. Won’t we?”  
  
“I won’t,” a new voice broke in. Velvet and I both stopped and _glared_ at Fox. “Your dirty looks have no effect on me. I am impervious.”  
  
“Yes, Fox,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “But I can still try to spontaneously shoot laser beams out of my eyes.”  
  
 _“Don’t even joke about that,”_ Fox said. _“For you, that’s a very real possibility.”  
  
“Right, right,”_ I said, as the three of us seamlessly switched into telepathic comms. _“By the way, where’s Coco?”  
  
“Hm. Coco, how long does it even take to pick out a mission?”_ Fox asked. _“I thought you just picked one out from the board.”  
  
“Change of plans for us apparently,”_ Coco said, a frown somehow audible in her voice. _“I keep getting an error message and a popup. Priority assignment, go see Headmaster Ozpin.”_  
  
Something like dread bloomed in my gut, and memories I’d had little cause to even _think_ of reviewing for the past four-odd years came to mind.  
  
 _Constant attention, extra training missions_ … _sound familiar?  
  
“We’ll meet you outside the Tower then,”_ I said over our link. The three of us shared identical frowns of confusion, but went where we said. A few minutes later, we met back up with Coco in front of the Tower entrance, and Glynda Goodwitch was with her.  
  
“As I just finished telling your leader,” Professor Goodwitch said as she ushered us into the elevators, “this is highly unusual. Headmaster Ozpin does not do such things as override the leader’s choice lightly, _especially_ not for a team’s very first mission outside of Beacon’s walls.” The elevator dinged, and she led us out of the elevator, into Ozpin’s office proper.  
  
Great clockwork gears turned beneath the floor, creating a constant dull groaning noise in the background. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the back, I could see the entirety of Vale spread out below us, as well as the coastline beyond it. Near the city, I could see the outskirts of the Emerald Forest, and further beyond that, you could just _barely_ make out the gradient from green to red that marked the start of Forever Fall. None of that mattered, though.  
  
What mattered instead was the immortal sat at the desk in front of us, peering over the lenses of his glasses with a smile.  
  
“Ah good, Team CFVN. Before anything else, I would like to apologize for the… _unusual_ circumstances. Ordinarily I would not interfere with your choice of mission, Miss Adel, but a situation has arisen that your team is particularly well-suited to. Or to be more accurate, your team has certain abilities that might be necessary, and simply the possibility that they may be required was enough for me to take notice.”  
  
“While I’m happy to hear that we can be of some service, this doesn’t actually explain anything,” Coco said, crossing her arms. “Headmaster, what is our mission?”  
  
“Straight to the point then,” he said with a smile. “In that case, I’ll be blunt. Miss Adel, I don’t actually need you, nor Miss Scarlatina; what I have need of are your partners’ Semblances.” Fox and I both stiffened, but he continued. “There is a town along the coast of Sanus, a bit west of Beacon, called Bearded Bay. Somebody of great importance to me lives in that town, and has reported an _unusual_ rise in the number of Grimm attacks in the village. Communication with surrounding settlements has revealed that there has been no associated rise in Grimm presence in those communities; this has led me to the conclusion that something—or possibly some _one_ —is actively precipitating the Grimm incursion. To that end, I have need of Mr. Alistair’s and Mr. Belladonna’s Semblances.  
  
“Mr. Alistair, you have mentioned that you can read a person’s surface thoughts with your Semblance. With the right stimuli, this can cause a person to reveal information that they would not otherwise wish to. Additionally,I would like you to train with Ms. Scarlatina, and try to read thoughts below the surface level. Have Ms. Scarlatina read a specific passage, and attempt to pluck that information from her memory. Whether or not you succeed in this endeavor, you still possess the means necessary to determine if a person is responsible, though success would make it far easier. I will warn though, in case you succeed: beware what you may find in another person’s mind. People think many things that they do not truly believe or intend; it is up to you to parse what to weigh heavily or not.  
  
“Now, Mr. Belladonna. You have done an admirable job of hiding it, but both Professor Goodwitch and I know that your Semblance is not simply leaving behind short-lived copies of yourself.” One of the holographic monitors in front of him filled up with graphs, each of which shared the same title: _N. Belladonna Aura Levels_. “It is incredibly subtle, but every time somebody has used their Semblance in your presence, there is a marginal drop in your Aura levels. From this information, and from some of the feats we have seen you perform, I would hypothesize that your Copycat is, in fact, the ability to copy Semblances.” My whole team stiffened. “I need you to confirm or deny, Mr. Belladonna.”  
  
“... yes,” I bit out. “It’s got limits, but yes.”  
  
“And am I correct in theorizing that you can sense _when_ a Semblance is being used?” Ozpin asked.  
  
“Only if it’s a new one,” I said, “or it’s being used in a manner I haven’t seen or experienced before.”  
  
“Indeed. Between the two of you, your team is capable of sussing out the source of this threat. If it is a person acting with impure motive, then with the right stimulus, Mr. Alistair will be able to find them. If it is a Semblance at work, then you, Mr. Belladonna, will be able to shine light on that fact.”  
  
“One question,” Coco said. “On these initial missions, we’re supposed to shadow trained Huntsmen in the field. Who are you assigning to us?”  
  
“Two people that I trust beyond reproach.” Ozpin pressed a button on his desk, and two images appeared on it. When I got a closer look, it took all of my focus to keep my breathing level.  
  
 _No_ , I thought to myself, being incredibly careful to keep them private from Fox.  
  
The image on the left was of a man with slicked-back black hair, deep-red bloodshot eyes, and five o’clock shadow. In the picture, he was wearing a deep-collared dress shirt with what looked like a _cape_ on the back, and a necklace with a crooked cross on it.  
  
The image on the right was a young woman with brown hair, brown eyes, and olive skin. She was pretty, if a bit plain compared to other women I’d seen. But what was more important, and the way I recognized her, was the staff she held in her hands.  
  
“The man is Qrow Branwen,” Ozpin told us. “He teaches at Signal Academy during the spring, but in the fall, he takes on missions too difficult for most Huntsmen to handle. You will be shadowing him; if you look past his eccentricities, you will learn much from him. The woman, on the other hand…”  
  
Ozpin fixed us all with a stare.  
  
“Her name is Amber. She is my niece. She has her Aura unlocked, but is not trained as a Huntress; as such, I will be entrusting her safety to you. Please; do not let me down.”  
  
“We won’t,” Coco said, standing up straight. “Team CFVN _will_ find out what’s causing these Grimm attacks, and if we can, stop it.”  
  
“I am glad to hear it,” Ozpin said, a genuine smile on his face. “Your Bullhead departs in one hour. And Team CFVN?… thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”  
  
“We won’t let you down,” Coco said. “Come on. Let’s go finish preparations.” She turned around and headed towards the elevator down to the ground. I took one last look at the images in front of us before I turned to follow, my mind awhirl.  
  
Amber. The _Fall Maiden_.  
  
I had an opportunity to help things. An opportunity to stop what’s coming, to stymie the enemy before it ever got a chance to set its plans in motion. And yet… and yet I’d been here before. I’d been in this exact situation before, and the last time I’d had this opportunity—  
  
I… I can’t do this. But if I stand aside? If I do nothing?...  
  
What do I do?  
  
 _What the fuck am I supposed to do!?_


	7. Chapter Seven | The Boy Who Cried Wolf

My Scroll started ringing with an incoming video call barely a moment after we’d gotten onto the bullhead. A quick glance at the caller ID had me sighing, and the rest of my team giving me sympathetic looks.  
  
“Hey,” I said by way of greeting.  
  
 _“So you have your mission?”_ Blake asked, an expectant smile on her face. Then she blinked and looked at the area behind me. _“Wait, Noah, you’re on a bullhead already? I thought you said it was supposed to be a local mission, just outside of Vale?”_  
  
“Yeah, change of plans on that front,” I said with a frown. “Turns out the Headmaster needs us to run a personal errand for him, thanks to mine and Fox’s Semblances.”  
  
“Noah, are you sure we should be telling so much to a civilian?” Coco asked with a pointed look in my direction.  
  
 _“A-actually, I kind of agree,”_ Blake said, a worried look on her face. _“Um, without giving any more specifics, can you at least tell me where you’re going?”_  
  
“I… probably shouldn’t,” I said hesitantly. “Look. We’re going to one of the _way too many_ towns on the coast west of Vale. I honestly don’t think we’re _allowed_ to say any more than that; if I could, I’d tell you to just track my damn Scroll’s location, but that’s not foolproof either.”  
  
 _“Just promise me you’ll stay safe,”_ Blake said. I hesitated, but she caught onto that immediately. _“Noah. Please?”_  
  
“I can’t promise that Blake,” I told her honestly. “You know how it is outside of the major cities. But… I promise that I’ll do the best I can.”  
  
 _“... I’ll hold you to that, mister,”_ Blake said, eyes narrowed at me. _“Please keep me posted. I worry about you.”_  
  
“Hey now, I’m the older sibling,” I said with a laugh. “ _I’m_ the one who’s supposed to worry about _you_ , remember?”  
  
 _“Nyeh!”_ Blake stuck her tongue out at me, ears flattening in mock anger. The two of us shared a laugh at that before smiling at each other. _“I expect you to send me a message once you’ve gotten to wherever you’re staying. Let me know you’ve made it.”_  
  
“I will,” I told her. “Anyway, bullhead’s taking off soon. Gotta go Blake. Love you.”  
  
 _“Love you too Noah. Talk to you soon.”_ With that, Blake hung up, leaving me with the rest of my team on the bullhead.  
  
“Alright Fox, conference us in.” Coco gave him a tap on the shoulder, and he nodded, bringing a hand up to his temple. An instant later, I felt as though there was somebody watching me, though I’d long gotten used to the feeling of Fox’s telepathy.  
  
 _“So, let’s go over what we know,”_ Coco said. _“I did some research while Noah was busy being a doting older brother—”  
  
“I resemble that remark,”_ I interrupted, prompting chuckles from Velvet and Fox.  
  
 _“As I was_ saying _, I looked into what Headmaster Ozpin was saying.”_ Coco put her Scroll down in front of us. Velvet and I leaned in to take a look, while Fox followed along on his own Scroll, fingers running over the surface. _“He wasn’t exaggerating; Grimm attacks on Bearded Bay have gone up five-fold over the past three weeks. What’s more, the Grimm were_ all _Beowolves. No Ursai, no Nevermores, no Creeps, nothing. Just… Beowolves.”  
  
“What about the other nearby villages?”_ Velvet asked.  
  
 _“Well I looked into that, and they’re all reporting a_ drop _in Grimm attacks—and what’s more, not a single damn Beowolf for the same three week period. If I wasn’t suspicious already…”_  
  
All four of us frowned. Beowolves are the single most common variety of Grimm, not just on Sanus, but also on Anima. I wasn’t entirely sure about how common they were in the deserts of Vacuo or the freezing mountains of Atlas, but a general rule of thumb was that where there’s forests, there’s Beowolves.  
  
The other truism about Beowolves is that while all Grimm can sense negative emotions, Beowolves have the keenest version of that sense. If you have _enough_ despair, fear, etcetera in an area, you’ll eventually attract larger and more dangerous varieties of Grimm. But even a single person’s terror or anxiety was enough to send an entire _pack_ of Beowolves on alert, and racing for their location.  
  
 _“If it’s a person doing this,”_ Velvet started to ask, _“then… why? What are they_ getting _out of this? It just seems so… so_ pointless _. Or cruel.”  
  
“I’m more interested in the how,”_ Fox supplied. _“I know Ozpin said to keep an eye out for certain thoughts… but I get the feeling that we’re more likely to have Noah confirm or deny it’s a Semblance first,_ then _look for negative thoughts.”_  
  
It was a sign of the mood on the bullhead that none of us even though of pointing out the sight-based idiom when Fox used it. There was a time for jokes, and a time for severity. This was clearly an example of the latter.  
  
 _“If it is a Semblance,”_ I broke in, _“then unfortunately, we’re going to need to_ test _it. And that’s going to be dangerous, in and of itself.”  
  
“That’s why we’ll have a Huntsman with us,”_ Coco said. _“But the other woman… Noah.”_ I stiffened. _“You looked like you recognized her. And don’t try to deflect, please. We’re all worried. Anything you know…”_  
  
I sighed. I knew this was coming. The moment I saw that picture of the Fall Maiden up in Ozpin’s office, I knew that something like this was going to come up.  
  
 _“Alright,”_ I said. _“You deserve to know. About the most valuable, and most_ useless _Semblance I’ve copied. Let me tell you the story of Olivia Delphi, and the Semblance that she killed herself over… ”_  
  
  


  
*** * * * ***

  
  
  
If the mood before we’d gotten onto the bullhead had been somber, then the atmosphere when we finally _left_ it was so tense that you could cut it with a knife. Velvet stuck close to me and put a hand on my arm as we hoisted our overnight bags onto our shoulders and descended from our vessel, while I saw Coco trying to hold back the urge to shoot me a pitying look.  
  
Fox, though, gave me some distance. Judging by how Coco flinched an instant before slumping slightly, I figured he was talking her into giving me a bit of space.  
  
“You okay?” Velvet asked. I turned to see worry in her eyes—worry, not pity. That she cared. “That kind of thing…”  
  
“It’s… hard,” I said. “There’s another part to the story that I didn’t tell. Not just because it isn’t relevant right now,” I said, bringing a hand up defensively. “I’m just…” I sighed. “I’m not ready to tell it.”  
  
“Will you ever be?” Velvet asked, her tone uncharacteristically serious. “If you’re not sure, then… it may be better to just get it out there.”  
  
“Maybe,” I admitted. “But for now… can we focus on the mission?” I asked, desperately hoping for a change of topic. Velvet gave me a look out of the corner of the eye before, finally, she gave a nod.  
  
 _“We’re supposed to meet our point of contact just behind Fresnel Academy,”_ Fox informed us with his Semblance. _“Shouldn’t be far from here; Coco’s navigating right now.”_ He gave Velvet and me a meaningful nod, and the two of us sped up to catch up to the rest of our team.  
  
Fresnel Academy… it wasn’t anything special, I’m going to say that now. It looked more-or-less like a bog-standard middle school, with the exception that there was a fairly extensive physical education area, a small battle arena meant for training wannabe Huntsmen, and a decently-sized foundry. As it turned out, “behind Fresnel Academy” translated to “behind the foundry”, because that’s where Coco led us.  
  
And that’s where I felt the tug at my gut telling me I’d just copied a Semblance.  
  
 _“What is it?”_ Fox asked, the part of his Semblance that let him find peoples’ minds alerting him to the fact that I’d stopped moving.  
  
 _“Somebody’s here,”_ I said, walking much more carefully. _“I just picked up a new Semblance.”  
  
“I doubt it’s the one responsible for the Grimm, if that’s what’s causing it,”_ Coco said. _“More likely our person has an always-active Semblance.”_  
  
A crow cried out from a nearby tree before taking flight, making all of us jump for a moment. We all turned to the tree where the corvid had been, casting out with our senses.  
  
 _“I sense someone nearby,”_ Fox told us. _“But they’re… in the air? Wait no, they’re going down to the ground, about—”_  
  
Whatever else Fox said, I didn’t catch it, because at that moment my stomach _roiled_ , a massive flood of nausea rolling over me in an instant. I gagged and stumbled, falling to one knee on the ground as my guts recoiled at the sensation, and I fought _hard_ at the urge to vomit.  
  
 _“Noah!”_ Velvet cried, drawing Fox’s and Coco’s attention. _“W-what happened, are you okay!?”  
  
“I—I don’t know,”_ I said, holding back one more dry heave as I tried to take deep breaths. _“One moment I was completely fine, and the next, it just… hit me.”_  
  
“Your fourth okay there, kiddies?” Fox and Coco arrayed themselves protectively in front of Velvet and me, their weapons ready to deploy in an instant. “Looks about ready to blow chunks. And trust me on this one?” A man staggered out from behind a tree, holding a metal flask up to his mouth as he drank from it greedily. He pulled it away eventually and wiped his mouth with an arm; I could feel the nausea rising up my gorge as I caught a whiff of the alcohol that had been in it. “That would _not_ have been pretty.”  
  
“Qrow Branwen?” Coco asked, wariness in her voice. I pushed myself up from the ground, swaying a bit even as Velvet helped get my feet back under me, and brought a hand up to grasp Fang.  
  
“That’s my name,” he confirmed. “So you’re the kiddies Oz sent, huh?” Qrow Branwen stared at us for a moment. Then he looked back to the hip flask in his hand. Then back to us. Then back to the flask. “... I am _definitely_ not drunk enough for this.”  
  
With that, Qrow drained the rest of his hip flask… and then reached into a pocket in his vest and pulled out _another fucking hip flask_ , opened _that_ one… and continued to drink.  
  
 _“... are you kidding me?”_ Coco said, and I didn’t even have to be looking at her face to know that her eye was twitching. _“_ This _is the Huntsman we’re supposed to be working with? I don’t know how he can even stand up!”  
  
“You may want to be a little more polite,”_ I cautioned. _“Remember: Ozpin trusts this guy beyond reproach, and with the safety of his own damn family. Ozpin, most distinguished Headmaster that Beacon Academy has ever seen. I’m pretty sure this guy could take all four of us, at once, with both hands tied behind his back._ And _drunk.”_  
  
“Alright kiddies, quit having secret talks without me,” Qrow admonished as he put away his flask. “Now come on. Got someone you need to meet. This way.”  
  
Qrow turned and led us deeper into the woods behind Fresnel Academy. The four of us looked at each other, before eventually Coco waved for Velvet and me to follow, patting Fox on the shoulder to steer him in the correct direction.  
  
“Now I’m not sure what all Oz told you,” Qrow started talking to us as he walked, only the barest slur in his voice despite the _prodigious_ sum of alcohol he’d consumed, “but every time the Grimm have shown up, there’s been a few things in common. Someone spots a Grimm near the village walls, everyone goes into a bit of a panic, the local Huntsmen go to the walls, and sure enough a bunch of Beowolves come tumbling out of the forest. But the thing that’s got us on guard is that the _original_ Beowolf, the one that got the alert sent up in the first place, ain’t been where the alert said it was.”  
  
Qrow stopped for a moment and held up a hand, signaling for us all to stop behind him. A second look told us that we were _not to move an inch_. We waited there, and Qrow turned to the left, meandering in a drunken stagger in that direction for a bit before falling flat on his face.  
  
A moment later he pulled himself upright, staggered a bit forward, and left the treeline. Then he carefully, oh _so_ carefully, traced every single step he’d just taken in reverse, before winding back where he’d started.  
  
“This way, and match my footsteps very carefully,” he said, then paused. “Hey Queasy, how good’s your copy of Glynda’s Semblance? Think you can pick us all up?”  
  
“Let me try,” I said, bringing Professor Goodwitch’s Semblance to mind. A light purple glow surrounded the five of us, and we lifted about a foot off the ground. I could feel the toll this was taking on my Aura though. “I can’t keep this up for long,” I said, concentrating hard. “Three minutes, tops.”  
  
“We only need one,” Qrow said. “I’ll point, you float.”  
  
Qrow did exactly as he said he would: he pointed in a direction, and expected me to get us there. I’m not going to try and be facetious here, and say that it was a great way to travel, because trust me: if I have my way, I am _never, ever, doing this again_. I could feel a headache building up behind my eyes and tension growing in my shoulders and jaw, and that was just from doing a bare _fraction_ of what Professor Goodwitch does on a regular basis, and with far more delicacy than I’m demonstrating now. If this is what it takes to use her Semblance, then I am never, _ever_ giving her shit, ever again. And more importantly, when people start destroying things on the assumption that she’s just going to come by and fix it…  
  
I’m not going to let them. Because this is _exhausting_ , I don’t know how she gets through the day, and I refuse to let people make that poor woman’s life harder than it already is.  
  
Even as we moved along, I could tell that the rest of my team was having a conversation of sorts, and I was very glad that Fox decided to keep me out of it. I doubted I had the concentration to spare for it right now, and any lapse in my focus on Professor Goodwitch’s Semblance would completely erase the effort I’ve already put in.  
  
Two minutes passed, and we _finally_ reached a break in the treeline. Qrow still had me carry us all the way out of the forested area and into the clearing proper before I could set us down. Once I could though, we all dropped the foot down to the ground, and I fell _hard_ to my knees.  
  
 _“Are you okay?”_ Velvet asked as she leaned down to help me up. I gratefully accepted her help, and am unashamed to admit that I was balancing on her to keep myself upright. That headache behind my eyes was close to becoming a full-blown migraine.  
  
“I’ll be fine,” I answered verbally. Just like that, the familiar slight pressure of Fox’s Semblance retreated, easing my headache just the _tiniest_ bit. “Gods, how does she _do_ that all day?” I asked, closing my eyes and rubbing them with one hand.  
  
“Practice,” Qrow said. “Lots and lots of practice. That and she takes something to help with the headaches. Something special cooked up in Atlas.” Well, that raised questions all its own, ones that I’m somehow certain we will only get the answers to over Professor Goodwitch’s dead body… or maybe Qrow’s liquor supply? “Anyway, come on. She’s right up here.”  
  
Now that I wasn’t levitating everybody, and we were in the sun, I activated Gavin’s Semblance. The sun soaked into me, and I could feel my headache fading as my Aura climbed back at a steady clip. Not as fast as Gavin himself, unfortunately—unlike the man himself, I actually had to _expend_ some of my Aura to keep actively using his Semblance—but it did let me get some back. Enough that my headache had mostly receded, and I could get a proper look at what was ahead of us.  
  
It was a decent-size home, made for a proper family: spouses, two-point-five kids, dog and all. No white picket fence, though. It had three stories, or maybe two stories and a sizeable attic, I wasn’t sure, and off to the side I could see the makings of a nice yard. We’d come in on an angle, so I got a small glimpse at the back of the house, enough to reveal a carefully-tended garden, with fruits and vegetables visibly ripe for the harvest. Which itself was odd, given that we were in the middle-to-end of autumn. The house was painted a pleasant shade of… actually, I’m not sure. It wasn’t quite a pink or a red, and even tipped a little towards brown on the spectrum. Although it’s also possible that the aftereffects of my headache weren’t quite gone, so I wasn’t looking at it quite clearly.  
  
“Alright, she’s inside,” Qrow told us in a whisper. “Stay behind me; she’s… wary of strangers with weapons.” With that, Qrow knocked out a sequence on the door. There was a clear rhythm to it, but I’d have to hear it another couple of times before I picked it up. Velvet, on the other hand, was already moving her hand to mimic what Qrow had just done, so I knew we had a way to get inside if needed.  
  
We waited a minute. After no response came, Qrow knocked again, this time with a single loud knock before returning to the pattern. We waited for a response again and—  
  
My world lurched. The nauseous feeling from before returned, but much stronger—so, _so_ much stronger. I stumbled sideways and fell to the ground, barely holding myself up.  
  
 _“Noah!”  
  
“Oh shit, is he okay!?”  
  
“What’s wrong with him!?”_  
  
“Oh boy,” Qrow said, rapping on the door harder. I felt the lurch in my gut again, and this time, it took my breath away. I lost the battle holding myself up, and my vision started to tunnel as everything I heard went further and further away.  
  
It was practically _bliss_ when I finally passed out, laying there on the oddly-warm grass.  
  


*** * * * ***

  
I opened my eyes, blinking as I took in an unfamiliar room. From the way my vision was somewhere between sepia-tone and grayscale, I could tell it was night outside, and thanked my Faunus heritage again for letting me actually _see_.  
  
The room I was in had all the hallmarks of a guest bedroom: a token armoire with a mirror, the drawers already half-open to show that they were empty. The bed I was lying in, which, while comfortable, also had a slight smell of dustiness to it. A scent of staleness to the air in the room, hinting that it just didn’t get much use. And lastly, an armchair with a fresh towel set upon it.  
  
 _“Noah?”_ Fox’s voice rang into my mind, and with a bit of focus, I called up my copy of his Semblance. I found five minds below and forward of me, which let me know that I was on the second floor of this house; three of them were intimately familiar to me, a fourth I had a passing familiarity with, and the last one…  
  
The last mind was new. And yet… it was warm. Warm and welcoming, in ways that I didn’t know a person’s thoughts could be.  
  
 _“Noticed it, didn’t you?”_ Fox asked. _“Normally people have a bit of negativity in them. Coco’s arrogant, Velvet’s timid, and you’re suspicious. This woman though… I don’t think I’ve ever felt a mind quite like hers. Oh, I told them you’re awake; Branwen is coming to check on you.”_  
  
True to what Fox said, I could hear footsteps creaking on the wooden stairs, and a moment later, the door to the bedroom I’d been left in opened to reveal Qrow Branwen, two bottles in hand. One of them was beer, but the other…  
  
The other he handed to me. I rolled it in my hand to check the label, only to not see one.  
  
“It’s root beer,” he said. “The sugar will help, trust me.”  
  
“Help with what?” I asked, even as I twisted the top off and took a long pull of root beer. And wow, this was actually _really good_. Like, it was probably the best root beer I’d ever tasted. “Holy crap, who made this?”  
  
“You can thank Amber for that one,” he said, and I boggled. “Cola, root beer, cream soda… if it’s a drink, she’s probably tried to make it. Still haven’t been able to get her to try and make alcohol, but eh.” He raised his beer bottle in my direction, then took a long tug. “Anyway. Got any clues why you collapsed like that, kid?”  
  
“No,” I said, staring into my soda bottle. “Why, do you?”  
  
“Maybe,” he said. “Your Semblance. Oz mentioned you can tell when you pick up something new; what’s it feel like?”  
  
“A tug in my gut,” I answered. “Sometimes in the direction of the person whose Semblance it is, but not always, and I’m not sure what causes the difference.”  
  
“And when you went green, and then later when you collapsed,” Qrow continued. “How’d that feel? In comparison.”  
  
“The first time? Like something had my stomach in a vice,” I said, frowning. “The second time… similar. But this time, like something was pulling on my insides.”  
  
Qrow was silent for a moment. He walked over to the window and leaned against the wall next to it, holding his beer bottle by the neck as he watched the woods outside.  
  
“What do you think a Semblance is?” Qrow asked suddenly.  
  
“I… I don’t follow,” I said, confused.  
  
“What is a Semblance?” he asked again. “Where does it come from? What _is_ it, mechanically speaking?”  
  
“It…” I frowned, trying to collect my thoughts. “Scholars like to say it’s the outwardly projected component of Aura, a more tangible manifestation of the soul. But that doesn’t really… well, make sense to me. It doesn’t really explain passive Semblances, ones that are always there, since those are less tangible than that same person’s Aura. So really? I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I’m pretty sure there’s a lot about Semblances I don’t know, but that I’m missing some key bit to actually get it.”  
  
“Your instinct is right on the money there,” Qrow said, his voice shifting in tone. “Wisest guy I know explained to me that what we know as Aura and Semblances are just a tiny piece, left-over from something else that came before, far larger. That a Semblance is just that, the outward appearance of something greater. Or to put it more accurately, it’s the last flickering ember left behind by a great bonfire.” He drained his bottle and turned towards me. “It’s magic, kiddo. Semblances are the little fragments of magic left behind, the little bit we can access. You said you feel a pull? That’s your personal piece of magic, pulling on that of others like a magnet. And that feeling earlier?  
  
“That’s what happens when your Semblance gets a taste of the real deal,” he said with a smirk.  
  
I stared at Qrow hard. Really, truly _stared_ , just like a cat. Stereotypical of a cat Faunus, I know. Internally though, I was struggling _hard_ to control my reaction.  
  
Qrow Branwen had just confirmed every little theory I had about what Aura and Semblances were, and where they came from.  
  
“So would that make Dust crystallized magic?” I asked.  
  
“Kid, there’s a reason we call it ‘Dust sorcery’, and it ain’t cause it’s flashy or hard to learn. Which it is,” he added offhand, “but that’s not the _reason_. And all of this is distracting from the topic. You got a whiff of magic, _real_ magic, and it hit you hard. Lemme guess, no appetite?”  
  
I opened my mouth to retort, but… he was right. I _didn’t_ have an appetite.  
  
“How did you know?” I asked. He smirked.  
  
“That first bit of magic you felt? Let’s call it… a gift. And when I first got it, I had a similar reaction: a feeling, like something was _pulling_ on my guts. And then when I finally woke up, I felt… well, not _not_ hungry, but also like I was… ah damn, what’s the word? Right, satiated. Like I could eat… but didn’t really feel the need to.” He nodded at the half-empty bottle of root beer in my hand, the one that I hadn’t realized I’d kept sipping from. “Problem is, just ‘cause you feel like you’re not hungry, doesn’t mean you ain’t. Hence the soda. Gets some sugar and calories into ya, so you won’t wake up in the middle of the night and try to tear apart the kitchen.”  
  
“Speaking from experience?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. He chuckled, then turned a bit melancholy.  
  
“Not me,” he said, looking out at the woods. “My sister. She… we don’t talk anymore.”  
  
I could’ve said something. That I knew what kind of person Raven Branwen was. That it wasn’t Qrow’s fault that she left. That there was likely nothing he could have ever done to change what happened to his team—to his _family_. It would all be cold comfort, though.  
  
Also, I felt like I was forgetting something.  
  
“I can’t really imagine that,” I said instead. “Not talking with my sister, I mean. She’s…” I glanced at the man in front of me, trying to read the melancholy on his face. “We’re close.”  
  
“Trust a middle-aged man who already has too many regrets on this one?” Qrow pushed off the wall and thrust his hands in his pockets, heading towards the door of the bedroom. “Make sure it stays that way. You’ll both be happier.” He opened the door and stopped in the doorway. “I’ll let your team know you’re fine, but you need to rest. You might not feel tired right now, but I guarantee you put your head on that pillow there, you’ll be out in no time.”  
  
Qrow closed the door behind him. I finished up my root beer and put the bottle down on the armoire, unsure if Amber was the type to clean and reuse the glass bottles or not. Then I reached out with Fox’s Semblance.  
  
 _“I’m alright,”_ I told the three of them. _“Just tired.”  
  
“Are you okay?”_ Velvet asked immediately, not even giving the other two time to answer. _“I saw you fall over, and it was, it was just so_ sudden _, I didn’t know what to do. I mean, I’m glad you’re okay, but—please Noah, don’t worry me like that again?”  
  
“No promises,”_ I told her. _“Any update on the mission?”  
  
“We go into town tomorrow,” _Coco told me. _“Right now Fox is training with Velvet, trying to get a paragraph from a book out of her memory. We’ve only gotten two words so far, and that was after a_ lot _of false starts, but we’re making progress.”  
  
“Good to know,”_ I said to Coco, cutting my copied Telepathy down to just the two of us. _“There; the two of them can get back to it. Anything to be aware of when we go into town?”  
  
“Velvet’s going to be posted up as high as possible to get a look at the town proper, and I’ll be with her as a second set of eyes”_ Coco told me. _“You and Fox are gonna need to be in the thick of things though; I hope you’ll be ready for that.”  
  
“I should be,”_ I said. _“Turns out Branwen has some experience with what just happened.”  
  
“Noah, answer me honestly,”_ Coco said, her mental ‘voice’ serious. _“What the hell went on out there?”_  
  
I thought for a moment about my answer, thinking it over, along with what I’d already told them on the bullhead.  
  
 _“Proof. Proof that what I saw with Delphi’s Semblance wasn’t an exaggeration,”_ I told her. _“Magic is very,_ very _real, Coco. And for lack of a better word, my Semblance might have just…_ eaten _some.”_  
  
  


  
*** * * * ***

  
  
  
Morning came dark and early, habit snapping me awake as the first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon. Given the time of year, that meant it was about… half past seven in the morning? From experience, I knew that Coco would already be getting started on her hair, and Velvet’s claim to the bathroom had been established. The wild card for CFVN’s morning routine was Fox: being blind plays hell with his circadian rhythm, so it was a normal thing to sometimes see him stagger back from class and immediately fall asleep, or still be awake and in the library while the rest of us tucked ourselves into bed. That was part of the reason Fox got the outward-facing wall, on the other side of the dorm from Velvet and me: he was less likely to wake us when coming in.  
  
In our current location though, that wasn’t much of an issue. I opened my eyes to see Amber’s guest bedroom, and looking down, I noticed that I’d slept fully clothed. When Qrow mentioned that I’d probably be asleep the moment my head hit the pillow, he hadn’t been kidding. When I thought about why that was though?  
  
I focused inward, looking for that feeling in my Semblance that accompanied the copies it made. And I felt something… new. Something I didn’t have a point of reference for. If I close my eyes and really focus on it, copied Semblances feel like little points of light to me, sitting in a dark night sky. My own Semblance sat in the middle of it all, metaphorically brighter than its surroundings. But now… now something else shone in that metaphysical night sky. Two bright spots, one the barest bit brighter than my own Semblance.  
  
And the other, a great inferno. It burned warm, welcoming. I could feel it, something… something _more_.  
  
I knew what it was. It was a tiny piece of the Fall Maiden’s magic, the absolute _barest_ fragment. I reached out for it, mentally, feeling for it with my Semblance, letting its warmth suffuse me—  
  
“Noah?” I jumped at the voice and sudden knock on the bedroom door. “Are you awake?”  
  
“I’m up,” I replied. A moment later, Velvet opened the door and came inside. She walked over to the bed and pulled me into a tight hug, resting her chin on my shoulder.  
  
“Vel—”  
  
“You scared us yesterday,” she said, voice low. “Don’t do that to us again. Please.”  
  
I returned Velvet’s hug, pulling her closer. There was a warmth in my chest, when I held her like this, but I couldn’t think about that right now.  
  
“I’ll try my best,” I said, picking my words carefully. “But I can’t promise it won’t happen again. You know that, now.”  
  
“Yeah,” she said. “I do. S-so it’s… really true then?” Velvet looked me in the eye, eyebrows raised. “Magic is… _real_?”  
  
“Sure is, kiddos.” The two of us turned towards the doorway and gave the stink-eye to the man standing there. Qrow just shrugged, taking a sip from the bottle of beer he was _already drinking_. It wasn’t even _eight in the morning_ , and he was already making headway on getting drunk, if the slight slur to his words was anything to go by. “Come on. Food’s downstairs, and catnap over there still ain’t met Amber.” He stopped for a second, sniffing at the air. “Actually, shower first. You stink.”  
  
The both of us stared at Qrow for a moment. Then Velvet and I shared a look, complete with raised eyebrows, before I turned back to the Huntsman in front of us.  
  
“Hey pot? Kettle called. He says you’re _black_!” I yelled.  
  
“I don’t think you have any room to talk about people stinking,” Velvet said, ears laying flat against her head.  
  
“Yeah yeah, just get yourself washed up and down. Breakfast is gonna be gone if you don’t hurry. Sheesh, damn kids…”  
  
Qrow stalked off out of sight and down the stairs. Velvet gave me one more hug before she let go, hopping up to leave the room.  
  
“You _do_ need a shower though,” she said, throwing a smile over her shoulder before closing the door.  
  
I groaned and flopped back down onto the bed, before taking a surreptitious sniff of myself. Okay, yeesh. She was right, I stank. Thankfully, the guest bedroom had an attached bathroom. _Unfortunately,_ all of the soaps in there were very clearly chosen by either Amber or Qrow, because my options were vanilla body wash and shampoo, or a bar of soap. My choice was pretty obvious.  
  
Also, I still couldn’t help the feeling that I was forgetting something.  
  
By the time I made it downstairs, Velvet was hovering protectively over a plate piled high with pancakes, bacon, and amazingly enough, smoked salmon. At the same time, Fox was trying to pick pieces of hash browns off of Coco’s plate, which she let him have because it kept him away from her bacon. Qrow was off in the adjoining living room, taking up most of a sofa while sipping from yet another beer bottle.  
  
And coming over from the kitchen, more food on a serving platter, was the Fall Maiden herself.  
  
“Oh, you’re up!” She deposited the platter at the table, where it soon fell prey to Fox’s tender mercies, and came over to me. “Qrow told me about what happened—I’m sorry, if I’d known that… well, um…”  
  
“It’s okay, um.” I swear, I was getting flustered watching _her_ get flustered. “Noah Belladonna.” I offered a hand in greeting.  
  
“Amber. Just Amber,” she said, voice melancholy. “Uncle Oz said it would make me harder to find without a last name. And most of my things are in his name anyway, so.” She took my hand and gave it a small shake, then her expression turned pensive. “I… how much has Qrow told you about?...”  
  
“Was gonna get into that once all of them were down here,” Qrow said from his position on the couch. I went over to the table and sat down besides Velvet, whereupon she positioned herself between me and Fox… and also made sure to keep him from taking _all_ the food. “I’m pretty sure you four all had some private talks, but we’re gonna start from the top anyway. Show of hands, which of you kids know that one fairy tale about the seasons?”  
  
All four of us raised our hands. It’s a simple enough fairy tale: old misanthropic wizard locks himself away, four young women go to show him there’s still good in the world, they convince him, he gives them magic powers attuned to the four seasons as a reward.  
  
“Good, that makes this faster. Well, here’s the kicker: the story’s true.” Fox dropped his fork. “The four maidens? They were real, their power is real, and it’s still out there today. Matter of fact, you’d best be thanking one of ‘em for your breakfast.”  
  
As one, we turned to Amber, who blushed and looked away.  
  
“See, she’s the Fall Maiden. Fall in Vale, Spring for Mistral, Winter for Atlas, and Summer in Vacuo. And keep in mind? If it were my choice I’d be telling you none of this. But Oz told me that if his,” Qrow waved in my direction, “Semblance decided to act up, then all of you got to know. Mainly ‘cause if we just told one of you, you’d all know in about five minutes anyway.”  
  
“He’s not wrong,” Fox muttered around a mouthful of pancake. Coco slapped him upside the head. “Ow!”  
  
“No talking with your mouth full!” Coco reprimanded with a huff. “It’s disgusting.”  
  
“As I was saying!” Qrow raised his voice, drawing our attention. “If I’d had any say in this, none of you would know. Keeping magic a secret is hard enough, even without answering your inevitable question of ‘how is she the Maiden’. So here’s the gist: the Maiden position is a mantle. It can be inherited, by a set of convoluted rules. No, I’m not telling you what they are, just that they exist. And when I mean _inherited_ …”  
  
“Someone had to die for Amber to become the Fall Maiden?” Velvet asked. “Didn’t they?”  
  
“... my mother,” Amber said, looking off to the side. “She died in childbirth.”  
  
“Oz told you she wasn’t trained as a Huntress,” Qrow said. “And he wasn’t wrong. She was trained as a _Maiden_. And it’s not like we can advertise that either.”  
  
“Right,” Coco said. “That would defeat the purpose of being out here in the woods, away from the rest of the town, and with such a convoluted means of hiding your tracks. Which reminds me: how are we getting into town?”  
  
Qrow chuckled.  
  
“I hope you kids learned how to climb trees when you were younger,” he said, then drained the last of his beer. “Make sure to eat up, then get ready. We head into town before noon. That’s when they’ve been showing up,” he said. “And I’m not about to waste new pairs of eyes on this.”  
  
  


  
*** * * * ***

  
  
  
We made it to town around twenty minutes before noon. As I looked around the central plaza, Qrow’s reasoning for picking this time made a lot of sense: some of Fresnel Academy’s students were milling about, getting good from stands and carts, the ones old enough to have weapons already making sure they were proudly on display. That itself raised a few questions though, especially since Qrow had mentioned that the uptick in Grimm attacks almost always happened near the noon bell. Namely: why would Grimm be attacking when there’s _more_ people capable of taking them out?  
  
It didn’t make sense.  
  
 _“Is everyone in position?”_ Qrow asked. _“Hey, this is pretty nifty. You kids have any idea what my team woulda gotten up to with a Semblance like this?”  
  
“Far too much of one,”_ Coco groused. _“Velvet and I are on overwatch; I’ve got my Scroll out and recording, and Vel’s… well, she’s watching from another angle.”  
  
“We’re ready on the ground,” _Fox said from next to me. _“I’m not picking up any negativity. Noah, do you see anything?”  
  
“Nothing that Coco or Vel wouldn’t have a better view of,”_ I said. _“The moment I feel something, I’ll let you know.”  
  
“In that case, I’m off to the gates,”_ Qrow said. _“Unless your range got better, I’m gonna be leaving it. Keep me posted by Scroll when shit starts to happen.”_  
  
I saw a flicker of motion out of the corner of my eye, and a moment later, the pressure of Fox’s Semblance felt slightly lighter.  
  
 _“He’s… interesting,”_ Fox offered, his tone diplomatic.  
  
 _“I don’t want to disparage Headmaster Ozpin, but_ this _is what has his full trust? A man who went to sleep drunk, woke up_ still drunk _, and then made sure he_ stayed _drunk?”_ I could somehow hear Coco scoff over the psychic link; she must have been practicing that.  
  
 _“What worries me more is that even drunk as that? The way he moved was…”_ We got the distinct impression of a shudder from Velvet. Which _also_ was something I don’t think Fox’s Semblance could translate into thought-speech, but by the lack of tug in my gut, was clearly a possibility this whole time. More likely, we were just getting more familiar. _“Trust me, he was always one second away from killing us all, with no wasted movement. He’s_ good _.”  
  
“Qrow versus Port,”_ I suggested. _“Who would win?”  
  
“We’ve only seen Port holding back, but even if he didn’t…”_ Velvet trailed off.  
  
 _“You’re serious,”_ Coco said. _“He’s that dangerous.”  
  
“I, I think so…”  
  
“Then why the hell is he constantly—“  
  
“Eyes up people,”_ Fox said, pulling us away from the conversation. _“Someone new approaching, and their thoughts feel…_ loud _.”_  
  
I took a look around, and eventually managed to catch sight of what Fox was pointing out. It was a kid, _maybe_ in his first year at Fresnel Academy if he was small for his age, but most likely he was just a civilian. What was more disconcerting was his appearance: his clothing was ripped and covered in dirt—and was that a little bit of _blood_?  
  
“Grimm!” The boy yelled, pointing off in the direction he’d just come from. “Grimm at the gates, at the edge of the forest!”  
  
An instant later, I felt a tug in my gut, and the townsfolk around us became visibly agitated. One woman even screamed in terror… and that was all it took for a full-blown panic to overtake the crowd.  
  
 _“”I’ve got something,””_ Fox and I said at the same time, turning towards each other with looks of surprise.  
  
“Quick, get people to Fresnel!” A townsman cried, moments before he was nearly stampeded by the crush of citizenry running in the exact direction he’d indicated.  
  
 _“Fox, report,”_ Coco ordered.  
  
 _“Noah detected a Semblance at work, but there was something else. I felt something… I don’t know how to put it into words,”_ he confessed. _“Everybody’s thoughts started to take the same shape. It was… it was_ wrong _.”  
  
“Discuss later. Alright CFVN, I’ve sent word to Branwen. Let’s get to the gates and see what we’ve got waiting for us.”_  
  
We all offered our affirmative over Fox’s Semblance, and started heading for the gates. It was a four minute run away at Huntsman pace, which brought something else to mind: how did a small boy get the word about Beowolves to us before the actual guardsmen did? There is no way that kid would have managed to outpace a trained town guard, even if his Aura were unlocked.  
  
A lot of things weren’t adding up around here, and given that a Maiden was involved, I didn’t like it.  
  
We made good time on our way to the outer wall of Bearded Bay, and took the available path to get atop the wall. Once we were up there, we met up with Qrow, who’d stationed himself with several of the guardsmen, eyes intently watching the forest. I took a look at the area below us, and saw… no Beowolves.  
  
 _“What’s the situation?”_ Fox asked Qrow, letting us know that he’d brought the Huntsman into our link.  
  
“Any of you kids catch anything on the way here?” Qrow asked aloud, nodding at the guardsmen standing next to him. _“That means use your voice, white-eyes.”_  
  
“Not seeing anything,” Coco said. “We heard Beowolves, but… nothing.”  
  
“Hang on a sec?” Velvet raised a hand to get our attention, and I saw the way her ears were twitching atop her head. Off to the other side of Qrow, one of the guardsmen took notice of Velvet’s ears and scowled, then spit on the ground. “I… I hear something. It sounds like… we should see it soon,” Velvet said, pointing at a spot on the edge of the treeline. A moment later, we saw it: specks of black, white, and red, moving in and around the various shades of green. Moments later, the rest of the Beowolf pack came into view. They came out of the forest, sniffing at the air, before a monstrous howl went up among them and their crimson gaze rested on the village gate… or more likely, on a point beyond the entrance.  
  
“They’re young Grimm,” Qrow said, a hand on his chin. “ _Very_ young. I know they’ve been getting younger over time, but… this isn’t good.”  
  
“Why not?” One of the guardsmen asked. “If they keep getting younger, I bet they’re probably not much more dangerous than an _animal_ ,” he finished. My hackles rose, and it was only Velvet putting a hand on my arm that silenced the urge to yell at the man—or worse.  
  
“Because we got a Grimm power vacuum here,” Qrow explained. I’m not sure if he heard the emphasis the guardsman put on his choice of words, but either way, the Huntsman plowed on through. “We get to the point that there’s no more Grimm in this area save the newborns, eventually something meaner and nastier is gonna take that as a cue to move in. Sure, you probably got a few more days of young Beowolves, but mark my words: by next week, it’ll be an Ursa Major, or a giant Nevermore.” He turned towards us now. “Hey kids, ya wanna—”  
  
“No,” I said, making sure everybody knew just how much venom was in my voice as I walked over to the guardsman that’d spoken. “If they’re so weak that even an _animal_ can kill them,” I spat in his face, “then maybe you’d like to demonstrate.”  
  
“ _Noah!_ ” I turned to face Coco, who’d taken off her sunglasses to look me directly in the eyes. “Calm. Down.”  
  
“The fuck do you people even think you are!?” The guardsman asked, practically spitting at us as he yelled. “Think you people can just come here, throw your weight around a— _AAAAAGH!_ ”  
  
Right at that moment, the guardsman had taken a step forward. The portion of the stone wall he’d been leaning on decided at that very moment that it wanted to crumble, falling forward and nearly taking the guardsman with it. He managed to catch a hand on the edge and swing his other around, but he didn’t have any access to the leverage he’d need to help pull himself up. What’s more, the Beowolves at the edge of the forest caught a whiff of his fear, and had rushed straight in his direction. They’d begun circling the area of the wall just below him, jumping up and snapping at his heels, even as the other guards pulled out their guns and began taking potshots at them.  
  
“Get me up! _Get me up!_ ”  
  
“But didn’t you say even an _animal_ could kill them?” Qrow said, leaning down over the guardsman while holding his flask in his hand. “Come on, how bad could it be for a _human_ like you?”  
  
“I take it back, I take it back!” He looked down, and yelped as a Beowolf got close to his feet. “Please, I’m begging you!”  
  
“Well, kids? How about the Faunus give this poor, poor human a hand, huh?”  
  
I growled, but both Velvet and I stepped forward. She grabbed one arm, I grabbed the other, and together we hoisted him up off the ledge. He looked at Velvet and me, the two Faunus that stood between him and a pack of snarling, ravenous Grimm below. A pack of Grimm that had been reduced to one, solitary Grimm, just with the other guardsmen’s rifles.  
  
“Oh Brothers,” the man said, collapsing to his knees on the stone. “I… I could’ve _died_!”  
  
“Yeah,” Qrow said, eyeing the stone that had fallen away. “Pretty _unlucky_ , that.”  
  
“I…” He looked up at Velvet and me, the both of us staring down at him with crossed arms and glares. “I… what I said, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”  
  
“Don’t lie to us,” Velvet said, her voice quiet. “Please.” She turned away from him, walking back towards the rest of our team.  
  
“A word to the wise,” I said, pulling the guard up roughly by one arm. “You’re entitled to your opinion on Faunus like us. But keep that shit to yourself.”  
  
I didn’t wait to see if he responded. Instead, I rejoined my team, ready for whatever they wanted to say.  
  
 _“I know you were doing it out of solidarity for your teammate,”_ Qrow said through Fox’s Semblance, while simultaneously drinking from his flask. _“But ya gotta control your temper. Thought I was lookin’ at my niece for a sec.”_ He pulled the flask away and capped it, went to put it back in his pocket… then seemed to think, ahem, ‘better’ of it, and went back for more. _“This normal for him?”  
  
“No,”_ Coco said, giving me a concerned look. _“Are you sure the… gods, I can’t believe I’m actually saying this and having it be serious, but are you sure the_ magic _didn’t do anything else to you, Noah?”  
  
“... that was all me,”_ I said. Without the heat of the moment, I started to feel a little disappointed in myself. Back there, I’d acted like… like _Adam_ would have.  
  
And it made me feel a bit sick to my stomach, thinking that.  
  
 _“Are you sure you’re okay?”_ Velvet asked, concern in her voice. I chuckled.  
  
 _“How is it that all the hate’s thrown your way, and yet it’s_ you _trying to console_ me _?”_ I asked.  
  
 _“I’m… I’m more used to it,”_ she said, with some resignation. _“Please, Noah. Whatever you do, don’t let yourself get used to it. I… I don’t_ like _that I am.”  
  
“Alright, enough chat,”_ Coco said, inserting herself into the conversation. _“We can discuss human-Faunus racial tensions and_ improper reactions _to comparatively minor discrimination later,_ Noah _. For now, we should get back to the house, do a full debrief. We have some clues, but there’s still a few things that just… I don’t know,”_ she ended.  
  
 _“Don’t pass the smell test?”_ Fox suggested.  
  
 _“Hat ‘n Glasses has a point. We’ve got four new perspectives on what just went down, and I’ll bet our answer is somewhere in there. But before we go back…”_  
  
Qrow tapped his Scroll. A moment later, all four of ours buzzed, and we checked them in unison.  
  
 _“Amber’s sending us grocery shopping. And by ‘us’, I mean ‘you’.”_ He tossed a few Lien cards at Coco, who barely caught them out of the air. _“See ya back at the house!”_  
  
Qrow waved to us and started to walk away, raising his flask to his mouth as he did so. A moment later, he tripped on a rock and face-planted, spilling the contents of his flask all over the ground.  
  
 _“... I probably deserved that.”_  
  
All four of us were in agreement: yes. Yes he damn well did.  
  
  


  
*** * * * ***

  
  
  
Getting the groceries for Amber was a simple enough, if time-consuming, matter; Qrow’s list had us sourcing most of our groceries from a small farmer’s stand, a butcher, and a few other similar places, all of which took a fair bit of finding. The _real_ problems started when we realized that we had to carry all of these back to her house with us… while jumping through the treeline… and simultaneously not breaking, losing, or ruining anything that we bought.  
  
To absolutely nobody’s surprise, we put the matter to a vote, and Coco broke the tie in favor of having me use Professor Goodwitch’s Semblance to levitate us through the woods and back to Amber’s house, so that we didn’t leave tracks. We still had to copy the same route we’d taken yesterday, complete with breaking off at the site of Qrow’s maybe-not-fake drunken stumbling. And just like last time, I wound up with a splitting headache, and had to lie down in the grass outside with Gavin’s Semblance active just to get my Aura back. Thankfully, that took the headache away with it, but I hadn’t realized that under the light of the setting sun instead of midday, it would take me a full thirty minutes.  
  
“I hope you’re feeling better!” Amber said, a warm smile on her face as she opened the front door for me. “Your teammates are in the living room. How did it go out there?”  
  
“I’m not actually sure,” I told her as I closed the door behind me. “It’s definitely a Semblance causing this, but there were a few things that… well, it was just _weird_.”  
  
“Oh,” she said, her expression a bit downcast. “Well, I hope you manage to figure it out soon. I’ve been living in Bearded Bay for the past eight years, but… if this doesn’t stop, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay.”  
  
“We’ll do what we can,” I told her. “I think we’re close.”  
  
“Thank you.” With that, Amber went back to… whatever she’d been doing in the kitchen, and I joined my team (plus one drunk old man) in the living room. Qrow had traded up the beers from this morning for a bottle of wine. A fresh one, if the cork that Fox kept tossing up and down was any indication.  
  
“Head feeling better?” Fox asked, not turning to face me as his fingers ran over the cover on his Scroll.  
  
“Yeah,” I said. “Remind me to do something nice for Professor Goodwitch one of these days. What’d I miss?”  
  
“Well, we’ve confirmed that it’s a Semblance responsible for this,” Qrow said. “Hat ‘n Glasses shared the footage she got with White-Eyes and Shutterbug over here, but we kinda needed you here to actually _test_ the damn thing, Hissyfit.”  
  
“Do you _have_ to use demeaning nicknames for everyone?” Coco asked, her tone expressing her displeasure.  
  
“Do I look like one of your professors?” Qrow asked. “Look, I may teach at Signal, but that’s only in the spring. When I’m there, I’m all professional, but until then? I indulge. Now quit changing the topic; Hissyfit, use the damn Semblance already.”  
  
“Right now?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“We’ve got a trained Huntsman, four trainees, and a damn _Maiden_ in the other room,” he pointed out. “I’m pretty sure that unless you somehow pull every single elder Grimm in a hundred mile radius, we’ll be fine.”  
  
I looked from Qrow to Coco, who gave me a severe nod. Well, that was as much approval as anything. I pulled to mind the new Semblance I’d just picked up, brought it out, and tried to use it. I felt _something_ pulse outwards from me, flowing over all of us like water. I don’t know how _fast_ it moved, but all I know is that it didn’t last very long.  
  
“It’s definitely telepathic,” Fox said. “You let out _something_ , but I don’t know what—”  
  
“Wait, I hear something.” All of us turned towards Velvet, paying attention as her ears worked to narrow down what she was hearing. “It’s… _oh_ ,” she said, face scrunching up. “Amber has a few mice in the walls.”  
  
“I know about those!” Amber called from the kitchen. “Are they okay?”  
  
The lot of us turned towards the kitchen, matching looks of surprise on our faces, before we eventually turned and shrugged at each other. Velvet closed her eyes and refocused, listening for the mice.  
  
“I… don’t know,” she finally said. “I’ve heard mice and rats squeak before, but not often like this. It sounds… scared, maybe?”  
  
“Velvet, which direction are the mice in?” Fox asked, raising a hand with his pointer finger extended. “Point me where they are.” Velvet got up and obliged, aiming Fox’s finger at the stairs going to the second floor. “Noah, use the Semblance again.”  
  
“Sure,” I said, and reached for the unknown Semblance again. Once more, I felt something flow from me and stop soon after. This time though, Fox took a sharp intake of breath.  
  
“It’s messing with their thoughts,” Fox said. “Mice have really rudimentary minds, but they _do_ know what fear feels like. And the moment you used that Semblance, they suddenly became _very_ afraid.”  
  
“So it’s a mind whammy then?” Qrow asked. “I think we’re still missing something. Specifically: why did it only hit the _mice_ , and not us? And why did we not feel it in the crowd, when just about everyone else _did_?”  
  
“It’s not just Aura, I don’t think,” Velvet added. “I remember that every single Fresnel student in my line of sight looked just as shocked and scared as the rest of the people there. I’d have to take a closer look back to see if there’s something I missed or just didn’t pay attention to, though.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure a brief rest will do all of us some good,” Qrow said, standing up. “Go back to your rooms and rest for a bit, kids. Amber’s just getting started on dinner, and we got a few things to talk about in private. That means no eavesdropping, Shutterbug,” he said in Velvet’s direction. Velvet huffed and crossed her arms, ears laying flat back on her head as she glared at Qrow.  
  
“Alright team, you heard the man,” Coco said with a sigh and a smile. “Go take some time and rest up. We’re spinning our wheels here; maybe the rest will do us some good, hm?”  
  
“I’m gonna go help Amber in the kitchen,” Velvet said. “Anybody else want to join me?”  
  
“Sorry Vel; unless it’s seafood or Menagerie-style cuisine, I’m not much good in a kitchen,” I confessed.  
  
“I’ll help,” Fox said, which drew blinks from us Faunus. “What? My ADA’s more than good enough to let me do prep work. I just need some help reading labels.” Velvet and I shared a look, then shrugged.  
  
“I’ll be upstairs,” I told them, then went on up to the room I’d been given.  
  
Once I was inside and had the door closed, I pulled Fang and Claw off my back. I hadn’t had to use them today, amazingly enough, but I’d have to do some maintenance on them before bed anyways. Once I had my gunblades set on the dresser, I went over to the bed, and flopped backwards upon it. The mattress bounced a little bit, but in short order I was comfortable, my arms crossed behind my bed as I stared up at the ceiling.  
  
We were clearly missing a piece, here. I felt _something_ flow outwards from me when I used this new, mystery Semblance, but it wasn’t anything visible. Fox described it as telepathic in nature, but it felt _nothing_ like Fox’s Semblance. What’s more, it had absolutely _no_ effect on anybody in the house. Sure, it sent some mice scurrying in terror, but this was _nothing_ like we’d seen in the square.  
  
Except that was a question all its own: as far as Fox or I could tell from where we’d been standing, and near as Velvet could tell from _her_ vantage point, the four of us were the only ones in the main plaza that hadn’t been affected. In my mind, that ruled out my initial “having an unlocked Aura stops it” hypothesis, because there were clearly upper-year Fresnel Academy students that would _need_ to have their Auras unlocked by that point. Which meant there was something that separated us four from the rest. And for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out _what_ it was. Ugh; I’d have to go over that footage Coco had recorded earlier. Maybe there was something she’d seen, but just couldn’t remember, and it would be the key to—  
  
 _Red dot._  
  
I sat upright, staring at the far wall of the bedroom. There was a bright red dot on the wall. It stood there, tantalizing, taunting m—and it’s gone.  
  
… okay. That was weird. Maybe that headache I’d gotten from using Professor Goodwitch’s Semblance was worse than I thought, if I was actually seeing things a fair bit of time—  
  
 _Red dot’s back._  
  
I zeroed in on the red dot, over on the far wall, and stood up from the bed. A few steps brought me over to the wall, and I waited a moment… waited a moment…  
  
I slapped a hand down onto the red dot.  
  
A moment later, the red dot showed up just a bit lower than it had been. It bounced up and down a little, and I followed it with my eyes, slowly raising a hand to try and smack the damn thing again.  
  
Then the red dot went down onto the floor, and started moving around the room.  
  
I followed the damn thing, wondering what in the actual _fuck_ was going on. It sent me zigging and zagging around the room, eventually bringing me over to the window frame, where the dot… passed through the glass, to the other side of the window, and then across along the wall of the house.  
  
I’m not sure what came over me, but I unlocked the window, pushed it up, and leaned out the window trying to find the damn dot. Try as I might, though, I couldn’t—  
  
Something flew through the open window behind me. The open window, leading into the house of Amber, the _Fall Maiden_.  
  
I bit back a curse and turned, already thinking through my arsenal of Semblances. Fang and Claw were on the other side of the room, and I’d already gotten a headache from using Professor Goodwitch’s Semblance earlier, but it was the best option to—  
  
A pair of arms wrapped around my torso, and a moment later, a head buried itself in my chest. I froze, caught completely off-guard by this sudden turn of events. A familiar scent filled my nose, the scent of… that can’t be right. I looked down. Black hair filled my vision, and I couldn’t see a face, but crowning that head of black hair…  
  
… was a pair of cat ears. Cat ears that I’d know anywhere.  
  
“ _Blake_!?” I hissed, reaching down and grasping my sister—who should have been _anywhere on Sanus that wasn’t here_ —by her shoulders so that I could pull her back and look her in the eye. A moment later, I made eye contact with my sister, face-to-face, for the first time in over four _years_.  
  
And she looked… she looked _afraid_.  
  
“Noah, I…”  
  
“What are you _doing_ here!?” I demanded, my voice harsh, but quiet. “No wait, _how_ are you here? You don’t know how to—”  
  
“Tukson helped me!” Blake said, her voice still quiet. “You didn’t tell me you’d made it yesterday, and I got scared, s-so I called Tukson and had him track your Scroll, and it told me to come here, and—”  
  
“Blake, you can’t stay here,” I said, my voice tight with worry. I held up a hand, listening in closely, and even reaching out with Fox’s Semblance to see if they’d noticed anything. For the moment, it seemed that we were all clear. “Look… it’s good to see you, but you can’t _be_ here,” I told her. “This is—”  
  
“I saw people following you!” Blake blurted out. I froze, which she took as her cue to continue. “While I was trying to find you, I saw some people _following_ your team to the edge of the forest. They followed a trail that dead-ended and turned right back around, but then they kept looking in the forest for a _while_. I don’t know if they got close enough to find this house, it’s pretty deep in the forest and if I wasn’t tracking your Scroll I wouldn’t have found it, but… and it’s not just your team, they were following that Huntsman you were with earlier too!”  
  
A pit of dread opened up in my stomach at what my sister was telling me.  
  
“Blake, I need you to try and remember as best you can,” I told her. “These people following us. What did they look like?”  
  
“Um… let me think,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment, her ears bending down as she thought. “Um… one of them either had this really deep tan, or maybe she was Vacuan, and had bright mint-green hair.” I paled, though I don’t know if Blake noticed. “The other one had silver hair, either Atlesian or northern Mistralian complexion, and he moved like… well, a bit like _Adam_ , actually.”  
  
“Like Adam?” I asked.  
  
“Like he was really relaxed at first glance, but… um.” Blake looked away, her voice suddenly going quiet as she said the next part. “But like they’re ready to kill everyone in the whole room in an instant.”  
  
I let go of Blake, and walked over to my bed, sitting down.  
  
“Noah?” Blake asked, concerned. “Are you… is everything alright?”  
  
“Blake.” She looked at me, worry in her eyes. “Do you remember when Olivia Delphi died? What I told you about why I was so careful around Adam?” The sharp intake of breath, and the way her ears flattened against her head, was all I needed to know that yes, she did remember. I reached out with Fox’s Semblance to everybody in the house, Blake included. _“Meeting round two everyone,”_ I told them. _“We’ve got a problem.”  
  
“Kid, you’re gonna have to be more specific than that,”_ Qrow groused over the connection.  
  
 _“I just got word that someone’s been trying to follow us back to the house,”_ I told him honestly.  
  
 _“... and where_ exactly _did this information come from?”_ Qrow asked, his mental voice tight with suspicion.  
  
 _“H-hello?”_ Blake asked over the mental connection, her ‘voice’ hesitant and tentative. I felt a _weight_ come over the line. _“C-can you hear me?”  
  
“Noah…”_ Coco’s voice carried a hint of warning, and a promise of _pain_ if the answer wasn’t to her expectations. _“Is that your_ sister _!?”  
  
“... I can explain.”_  
  
Blake heard footsteps coming up the stairs first. By the time I’d registered them, she was already behind me, peering out over my shoulder. Qrow opened the door to the bedroom an instant later, his sword in hand and pointed my way.  
  
“You had better have a good explanation for this,” Qrow said, his voice and gaze cold as death.  
  
“It’s… a bit of a long one,” I admitted, “and partly my fault. I promise you, Blake isn’t a threat. Just put the sword _down_.” Qrow looked at the two of us, searching for something. Once he’d deemed that Blake apparently wasn’t a threat, he holstered his sword at the small of his back and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. “And—”  
  
Blake’s stomach chose that moment to announce its displeasure with whatever method she’d taken to get out here. _Loudly_.  
  
“... and tell Amber to put out another place setting,” I grumbled, even as Qrow’s shoulders shook with mirth.  
  
“You’re not off the hook yet, little lady,” he said to Blake as he left the room. “If I don’t like what you’re saying…”  
  
The threat lay heavy in the air as Qrow left the room, and Blake practically collapsed next to me on the bed. An instant later I was wrapped in her arms, and she’d buried her head into my chest again. I couldn’t help but pull Blake closer, holding my sister as tightly as I could without hurting her.  
  
“I missed you Noah,” she said, and I could feel the first traces of tears soaking into my shirt.  
  
“I missed you too Blake. So, _so_ much.”


	8. Chapter 8

“So let me get this straight.”

Coco pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers as she tried not to look at where Blake and I sat at Amber’s dining room table. Place settings were out, ruffled feathers were mostly soothed… but Coco had been suspiciously quiet the entire time Blake and I went over the how and why she was here.

In hindsight, I really should’ve seen this coming. Coco _loves_ getting the last word.

“Instead of trying to call your brother—or gods forbid, send him a _text message_ —you instead...” She brought up her fingers to start counting off. “Found somebody who knows enough about the CCT system to track somebody’s location. Had them track your brother’s Scroll for you. Went I don’t even know how far across the damn continent—“

“I was in Forever Fall, it’s not that far from—“

“ _Hup-up-up_!” Coco snapped. “You _do not_ get to talk yet, Kitty. As I was saying, you tracked him down, followed him _across the continent_ , and then snuck in the bedroom window of a house, one of whose occupants is _more dangerous than you could possibly begin to imagine_.”

“Now imagine if I _wasn’t_ drunk!” Qrow chortled, clearly claiming that title for himself.

“Do I have the long and short of it?” Coco finished.

“... maybe?” Blake offered. “When you put it that way...”

“I swear, for the love of...” Coco trailed off, groaning aloud. “You two. Brother and sister. I’m just going to assume your parents are similar. So I have to ask.” Coco fixed the two of us with a death glare, and I felt Blake push further up against my side. “What is it with Belladonnas and _overreacting_!?”

“... it seemed like a good idea at the time?” Blake offered. Coco just threw her hands in the air and walked just off to the side, throwing herself down onto an armchair in frustration.

“Can we go back to the part where you got him to open the window with a laser pointer? Because trust me, I definitely didn’t see that one coming.” Fox asked.

Blake and I both reached behind us and tossed the throw pillows from Amber’s dining room chairs at his face (yes really, there are chairs like that…). A third from Velvet hit him in the side.

“I’m serious,” Fox said, nonplussed. “Is that actually a thing that works?”

 **\-------**

  
Ghira Belladonna looked over the papers on his desk, adjusting his overly-small reading glasses with one hand and tilting the papers to get a better angle with the other. The only light source in the room was a small lamp, but that was the beauty of being a Faunus: you get to save some money here and there, and on an island like Menagerie, every Lien saved went to good use somewhere. That did not, unfortunately, make it any easier to parse the document in his hand: night vision or no, too-small reading glasses or no, legalese is still legalese.

And much as they tried to disguise it, Ghira was not about to let an SDC shell company purchase water rights to set up an offshore mining platform between Anima and Menagerie. Was it well-hidden? Yes, he had to admit that it was. But there _were_ some benefits to remaining in contact with his old protege Sienna, and one of them was access to her information network. Human-passing Faunus in the Atlas securities office were very quick to share what they could, after all; it just had to be hidden along with leaks that look more like insider trading or corporate espionage, and pointed to—

 _Red dot._

Ghira looked up, eyeing the dot that had landed on his paper. It bounced up and down a couple of times, and ever so slowly, he raised a hand to… and it was gone. He blinked once or twice, wondering if he’d been spending too much time reading; maybe it would be better to put the paperwork down and—

 _Red dot’s back._

This time it appeared in the middle of his office. Ghira pushed himself up from his desk chair and followed the dot, even as it meandered across the floor of his office and out into the hall. The dot led him through the hall, and into the dining room—

“Oh good, you’re here,” Kali said, fiddling with a laser pointer in one hand while the other gestured at their dinner table. “The food was almost cold.”

“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t use that _thing_ again,” he said with a gesture to the laser pointer, though his tone remained jovial.

“I changed the agreement when you didn’t show up for dinner last week,” Kali told him with a piercing look, offset by her grin. “ _Twice_. Now please, dig in. I got some swordfish at the market earlier.”

That was all it took to get Ghira in his seat, much to Kali’s delight.

  
 **\-------**

“It depends,” I admitted, “but assume it’ll work on most cat Faunus. And that it’s _really racist_ to do that unless you’re also a cat Faunus. Even other Faunus, if they aren’t cats, tend to get looked down on for doing that to us.”

“Faunus culture, ladies and gentlemen!” Qrow said, gesturing with the glass of whiskey in his hand, which had replaced his earlier wine. “Don’t play to someone else’s stereotype, but playing to your own is fine. Yup, sounds just about right.” Blake, Velvet, and I fixed him with simultaneous death glares. “But let’s get back on track. The people watching us.”

“Tan or Vacuan with mint-green hair, Atlesian or north Mistralian with silver hair, right?” Coco asked to confirm.

“That’s the ones,” Blake confirmed.

“How close were they watching?” Qrow asked, leaning forward. “And more importantly, _were you seen_?”

“I don’t think I was seen,” my sister said, choosing to answer the more important question first. “Humans, and Faunus whose trait doesn’t give them better senses—sorry Noah,” she shot me an apologetic look.

“No worries,” I waved it off.

“Anyway, they tend not to look _up_. They just… don’t have much reason to. And yes,” she plowed on to stop Qrow from interrupting, “I did pay attention to see if they did anyways. They didn’t.”

“Which means they weren’t trained at a Huntsman academy,” Qrow mused. “If you kids haven’t had Port or Goodwitch start breaking that habit, you will soon. Attacks from above tend to be part of your end of year practicals, at least on non-Vytal Festival years. What about their weapons?” Qrow directed this back at Blake again.

“The girl had a pair of… it was either small shotguns or big pistols at the small of her back,” Blake said, fidgeting. “The guy… I think his weapon was in his boots? They had shotgun shells around the outside.”

“Did you get a picture?” Qrow asked the obvious question.

Blake… blushed.

“Oh for fuck’s sakes,” he said. “Catnap, your sister has _no_ common sense.”

“Hey!” Blake yelled, ears lowered in anger.

“ _Moving on_!” Coco clapped her hands, drawing everyone’s attention. “Without that picture, all we can do is keep a lookout for these people. Most of us with our eyes, Fox with his Semblance. But we’re spinning our wheels here people; we still have a mystery to solve, and if we have to have an extra person involved, I’m sure as hell going to take the extra pair of eyes.” She slid her Scroll across the table, the video she’d captured during the midday excitement already loaded up and ready to play. “You watch that. Everyone else? Start throwing ideas.”

“Well, the first thing that comes to mind is relative Aura levels,” Fox said. “It’s possible Coco and Velvet were out of range, but I know both Noah and I got hit by that Semblance. Even so, we were unaffected, but the Fresnel students—with unlocked Auras, to boot—did get hit.”

“So you’re suggesting that how much Aura somebody has could change things?” Amber said, carrying a large platter over from the kitchen, a large sum of fresh-sliced, medium-rare roast beef laid out upon it. “Oh, could anybody help me with the rest of the serving bowls?”

“I got it,” Fox said, getting up to help her. I moved to stand, but Blake’s hand on mine had me sitting back down. Amber caught the motion, and swiftly hid a giggle behind her hand, even as Blake blushed and her ears folded in embarrassment. “Also, what Amber said is the gist of it: I think how much Aura the user has compared to the people they tried to hit is a controlling factor.”

“But doesn’t that give us another problem?” Velvet asked. “Who’s the user?”

“Didn’t you mention a boy running in with the warning?” Blake asked, tapping at Coco’s Scroll to find the footage. “Here, him. You said it happened after he showed up; wouldn’t it make sense if it was _his_ Semblance?”

“That hurts White-eyes’ idea about Aura levels,” Qrow said, jostling the ice cubes in his tumbler of whiskey. “I’ve only known a few kids to have more Aura at that age than a combat school student. My nieces were two of them, but they’re _not_ the standard to go off of. And schools make you tell them if your Aura’s unlocked, _or_ they’d find out anyways, and from there it’s not hard to measure a kid’s Aura levels.”

The lot of us went silent as Fox and Amber returned with the rest of the food: a massive bowl of garlic mashed potatoes, and a baking dish filled with roasted vegetables. She set them on the table and then sat down, and one by one we all served ourselves. Blake only gave herself a small amount of meat alongside a heaping helping of vegetables, then gave me a half-hearted glare when I plunked another piece of beef down onto her plate.

A moment later there was a click, and Blake and I looked over to where Velvet sat, her camera in hand and a fond smile on her face. Then her ears perked up as something seemed to come to mind.

“Hey Fox?” Velvet asked. “I just realized. When we had Noah try the Semblance, you said the mice got scared. What about the people in the crowd?”

“Hmm…” Fox closed his eyes as he chewed (not like he needed them…), thinking away. Then his brow furrowed as something seemed to come to mind. “It… wasn’t all fear. There was some, but there was also shock, confusion, and uncertainty. And then it just _grew_ , and eventually it all turned to fear.”

At that moment, a thought came to mind. About assumptions that had been made, and ways that they may be invalid.

“... what if we’re wrong?” I asked.

“How so?” Qrow looked at me with interest.

“Well, we’re looking at this whole thing on the assumption that none of us were affected,” I said. “And that especially makes sense for Coco and Velvet, who were up and removed from the whole thing. But what if we’re wrong about Fox and me?”

“What if the two of you _were_ affected by the Semblance, but just didn’t realize it?” Velvet asked as a vegetable fell from her fork.

“Which also makes the assumption about it causing _fear_ invalid,” Coco supplied. “And if we’re wrong about _that_ , then what does the Semblance actually _do_?”

“I… don’t know,” I said, deflating.

We returned to our meals, eating in relative silence as we turned the situation over in our heads. The answer was in front of us, but we somehow weren’t seeing it. Telepathic Semblance, check. It affects emotional states, eventually pushing them towards fear… not quite check, because I know neither Fox nor I became afraid, and I don’t _think_ there was anything funky going on with my mental state. Unless, of course, that was another invalid assumption, and that’s not actually what it did. The Semblance probably belonged to the young boy, and I’m not sure where he came from—

“Hang on a second,” Blake said. “The boy that ran up. You think it’s his Semblance, right?”

“That’s the going theory,” Qrow said. “What are you thinking?”

“How much Aura did you all use up getting into town?” she continued. “And what time does the school have its combat and Aura training classes?”

“Barely any,” Qrow said. “And they have those classes right before lunch; it’s not a great idea to do strenuous physical activity right after eating, and the food helps them refill their… Aura…” Qrow blinked, the hand holding his whiskey stopping halfway to his mouth. “It scales. That’s why the civvies and Fresnel kids got hit, but you kids didn’t.” He suddenly pushed back from the table, grabbing his Scroll in the process as he headed outside. “I got an idea. Need to go talk to someone.”

“Wait, what’re you planning?” Velvet asked.

“We’re cancelling combat and Aura classes at Fresnel tomorrow,” he said. “And making sure civvies without Aura stay out of the square. White-eyes and Catnap, you two’ll be down in the square like last time. Hat ‘n Glasses, you’ll be on overwatch again.”

“What about me?” Velvet asked, then looked across the table. “A-and Blake?”

“Well Kitten shouldn’t even _be_ here,” Qrow admonished with a glare. Blake shrunk in her seat, and I glared at Qrow. “That said, I’m still gonna use ya. Folks are following us? Well Shutterbug, you and Kitten have better hearing, and a _camera_. Find them.”

With that, Qrow left the house. A moment later, I felt a pulse of nausea coming from my gut—less than last time Qrow had shown up, but still powerful. Enough to make me put a hand over my mouth.

“You okay?” Blake asked, a hand on my back. “You look a little green.”

“I’m fine,” I said, looking at the half-eaten vegetable still speared on my fork and seeing a perfect excuse. “Just wasn’t paying attention and grabbed a brussels sprout.”

“Oh.” Blake’s eyes fell to the half-eaten sprout on my fork, and her ears flattened in distaste. “ _Ew_ … who even _likes_ those things?”

“ _Ahem._ ” The two of us glanced across the table at Velvet, who had her arms crossed, nose wrinkled, and glared at us with a look of consternation. And in front of her, I saw… most of the rest of the brussels sprouts Amber had made.

“... sorry?” I offered. She just took a bite of her own sprout with a harrumph, chewing away as she glared.

  
*** * * * ***

When we got into town, the change wasn’t immediately apparent. A moment’s time actually walking in the square, though, gave me enough time to note the differences. And it was one of those things where it can’t be unseen: once you’re aware of it, you can’t help but notice. The big difference that stuck out once I knew to look for it?

The kitschy vendors and food carts. Oh, they were still there… but nobody was actually _buying_ from them. A closer look at the food cart—or well, a closer _whiff_ —was enough to tell me that nothing was actually cooking. I still heard the occasional sizzle, but that was literally just water being dropped onto a hot skillet or grill to make the sound. Everybody in the square had their Aura unlocked. I would wager we had every single professor from Fresnel Academy here, in disguise and prepared, as well as all of the students. Yes, _all_ of the students: I counted no less than thirty weapons slung on backs, hanging at waists, or outright held in hand.

 _“Okay team, get into position,”_ Coco ordered over our link. _“Fox and Noah, dead center of the square. Blake and Velvet, get as high as you can, and each of you cover one-eighty degrees; keep an eye out for mint-green or silver hair. Branwen and I will be up on the roofs as overwatch.”_

The lot of us took up our positions as ordered. Qrow and Coco crouched on the roof of the town hall, Coco having exchanged her favored aviators for a different set of glasses with matte lenses that didn’t reflect anything. I saw Blake and Velvet up at the top of the bell tower, Velvet looking east through her camera’s viewfinder, while Blake handled west with a pair of binoculars that Amber had loaned her, as well as her Scroll’s camera.

Meanwhile, Fox and I spread our telepathic senses over the crowd, keeping our third eyes peeled for whatever might be coming.

 _“Uh, excuse me if the answer is obvious, but…”_ Blake hesitated before finishing her question, and I could feel the embarrassment over our psychic link. _“But what if… well, nothing happens?”_

 _“That’s information on its own,”_ Qrow said, his mental ‘voice’ taking on a professorial air. _“It could also mean a number of different things. Maybe the boy is acting on somebody else’s direction. Maybe somebody is actively manipulating the boy, and he just doesn’t know it. Maybe there’s something else entirely at play, and the boy is completely innocent here. Doesn’t matter either way for you two. Any sign of Mint or Silver from up there?”_

 _“Nothing yet,”_ Velvet said. _“But we’re probably not going to see anything until and unless the boy cries Beowolf, right?”_

As she said this, I sensed something through my copy of Fox’s Semblance, and from the way he stopped and turned in the same direction, Fox did too. There was a sense of trepidation from an alleyway leading into the square. I focused harder on that spot, trying to identify what I was ‘seeing’. There was hesitation, worry, but also satisfaction and… _hope_?

 _“Fox, are you getting this?”_ I asked him.

 _“Eyes up people,”_ he said. _“Boy’s here and he’s coming into the square, but something’s off. Qrow, we might need you down here.”_

 _“On it.”_ I caught a glimpse of Qrow hopping down from the building, and from the way his thoughts spiked with alarm, so did the boy. But then the strangest thing happened… his thoughts changed to _relief_ , and he broke into a dead sprint for Qrow. Fox and I immediately went to go meet our assigned Huntsman where he’d landed, and the three of us presented a united front when the boy finally came to a stop in front of us.

“You’re Huntsmen?” he asked, with no preamble. “Real Huntsmen? Not like the teachers?”

“You know, I was expecting the first word outta your mouth to be ‘Beowolf’,” Qrow said, arms crossed as he looked down at the kid.

“I—!” He took a step back before looking down, fists clenched tight as his shoulders shook. “The… the first time was an accident, I didn’t mean it. But when it kept being real, and the Huntsmen kept believing me, I thought… maybe if I did it enough times, they’d trust me, and… and help…” He trailed off. A quick glance at his surface thoughts, courtesy of Fox’s Semblance, told me all I needed to know about this display.

 _“It’s genuine,”_ I said. _“Something happened to this kid, and he is terrified.”_

“Kid.” Qrow took the hint and kneeled down next to him, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder. I could see the instant the boy’s barriers crumbled, and just how hard he was resisting the urge to give Qrow a hug. “Why did you need the Huntsmen to trust you?”

“I tried to tell them,” he said. “I told them I saw a Grimm, that it was _doing things_ to Ma and Pa and me. And—and it _killed_ them. The Huntsmen said they’d died of somethin’ _else_ , but I _know_ it was the Grimm!”

 _“He says a Grimm killed them,”_ Fox said, confused. _“But any Huntsman should be able to tell when a body died to Grimm, right?”_

 _“Not always,”_ Qrow said. _“I got a real bad hunch here, and I_ really _hope I’m wrong.”_ Then, with his voice, he spoke to the boy. “Kid—”

“Grayson,” he said. “M’name’s Grayson McReady.”

“Grayson then,” Qrow said. “This Grimm. Did you get a good look at it?”

“It looked like a skeleton with bits of black,” he said, and Qrow stiffened. “Its arms, they were so long it dragged in the dirt. And the _scream_ …” He shook his head. “I found it in the barn after Ma and Pa wouldn’ wake up. It screamed, and… and I just fell. And then I screamed back, ‘n I could _move_ again. I been trying to keep it in the barn!” Grayson protested. “Screamin’ at it, like when I said the Beowolves was coming!”

“You’re absolutely certain?” Qrow said, his voice severe. “A corpse with arms that dragged on the ground, and a scream that made you fall.” He nodded. “And it was in your barn.” Again, Grayson nodded. “... _shit_.”

 _“Qrow?”_ I asked, hoping he’d tell us what he realized. The description had something tickling at my memory, something I’d forgotten… but I couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

“Wait with these two,” Qrow told Grayson, pointing at Fox and me. After Grayson nodded, Qrow stood up and walked to the middle of the square, then stood on the outer rim of the fountain. “Students of Fresnel! Get your asses back to the Academy; this situation is officially too dangerous for you. Professors of Fresnel and Huntsmen of Bearded Bay! Get your asses over here, on the double!” He turned towards us, and motioned to come over. _“If you’re up high, stay high. This is a good time for a watcher to sneak around.”_

Coco, Velvet, and Blake got the message, and stayed where they were even as the crowd began to move. The various students in the crowd grumbled, but left without overly much issue. The professors and Huntsmen, on the other hand, started to raise a bit of a stink when they realized that we’d brought Grayson over to the fountain with us. Murmured accusations were directed his way, as well as many a harsh look as he shrank in on himself and began to shake.

All of that was broken when Qrow whistled, drawing the attention of everybody present.

“Alright, I need a show of hands.” Qrow raised his own. “How many of you even _know_ what the Apathy is?”

… oh. Oh _shit_.

Three hands went up. Of them, two shook like leaves.

“Lesson time then, huh,” Qrow murmured to himself. “I’ll just say this. If there’s a documented type of Grimm out there, I’ve fought it. Out of all those types, none are worse than what we’re going up against.”

“Are you sure you’re not exaggerating?” A Huntsman, a wolf Faunus by the look of his ears, spoke up.

“The Apathy are the slowest Grimm of them all,” Qrow said. “But even with that, you won’t see them coming. You’ll _hear_ them. They’ll scream, and you’ll fall. You’ll feel the life drain out of you, the will to fight nothing more than a ghost. The Apathy will come closer, staring you in the face, and no matter how much you know you want to fight it, you won’t. Cause you can’t move. You can’t think. You’re left there, watching as this thing just shambles towards you, and when it leans down to take a bite, you better hope somebody else is there to save your ass. The only thing you can be thankful for is that they’re _rare as shit_. You find an Apathy, it’s the unluckiest damn day of your life.

“Now, boy who cried Beowolf here,” Qrow pointed at Grayson, who shrunk beneath their withering gaze, “gave me a picture-perfect description of an Apathy. Again, a _rare Grimm_. So unless you covered that in school, I’m inclined to believe him. Which means we got a hunt on our hands, cause Apathy? They’re like Beowolves. They roam in packs.”

The disquiet among the crowd grew.

“If you’re confident you can fight these things, you’re coming with me. If you’re not—or if you got better than normal hearing—you stay the fuck away. If you can hear them, they can get you. Now. Any volunteers?”

Hands went up. Not many, though; out of the twenty-odd people here, only six raised their hands. Two among them, a pair of Faunus with animal ears, had initially raised their hands, only to lower them with shame on their faces when Qrow mentioned the bit about hearing.

 _“Catnap, White-eyes, you two are with me,”_ Qrow said. _“Apathy have a telepathic presence, so White-eyes, you can feel them coming. Catnap, if I’m right, the boy’s Semblance is specifically a counter to the Apathy; we might need that, and I’m not willing to bring him along.”_

 _“What about us?”_ Coco asked.

 _“Get back to the house with Amber,”_ Qrow ordered. _“We can’t leave her undefended, and an Apathy hunt can take a_ while _. Kitten, back porch; Shutterbug, front porch; Hat ‘n Glasses, foyer. Get Amber to the second floor. We’ll check in every hour; if you don’t hear anything, you send an SOS back to Beacon.”_

 _“Roger that,”_ Coco said.

“Well kids.” Qrow turned to us, a scowl on his face. “This is gonna _suck_.”

  
*** * * * ***

Qrow divided the volunteer Huntsmen into two teams of three, and gave very strict instructions on how the Apathy hunt was to be handled. First, only one person would ever enter a building, structure, cave, or enclosed area at a time. Second, they would have a button on their Scroll depressed to constantly emit a signal. That way, if they found an Apathy and got the drop on it, they could rapidly press the button and send a signal, or if the signal outright _stopped_ , it was a distress call. Third, if they started feeling tired, they were to back up _immediately_ and wait for reinforcements. And fourth? Earplugs. It wasn’t a surefire solution, but any chance was better than no chance.

It took about twenty minutes for the Huntsmen to lead us to the McReady farmstead, and they immediately broke off into a spiral pattern search of the surrounding area upon our arrival. We only had one somewhat-confirmed sighting of an Apathy, and that was inside the barn at the farmstead itself. It was a simple enough barn: red paint, tall doors painted yellow, a tractor and other assorted farm equipment out front. What was telling, though, was just how _quiet_ it was. Not a single bird chirped. No insects buzzed. Heck, it even seemed like the wind wasn’t blowing.

“Alright,” Qrow said aloud. “White-eyes, you feel anything?”

“The barn,” Fox said. “It’s weird though. Grimm have a feel. This one has that, but it’s…” I could see Fox frowning, searching for a word. “Heavier.”

“Any idea where in the barn?” Qrow asked.

“No.” Fox shook his head. “The whole _thing_ has that heavy feeling.”

“Which means we gotta go in there… _fuck_.” Qrow pulled his sword from his back, the mechashift extending it to its full length, and led us to the barn door. “Rules. I go in alone. White-eyes, keep track of my condition. Catnap, you got the best vision in the dark; if you see something, let me know, and use the kid’s Semblance.” With that, Qrow pulled open the barn doors, and gave us a glimpse of the inside.

An old, rusted flatbed pickup dominated one side of the barn, along with a flatbed trailer still hitched up to it. The trailer was filled to the brim with bales of hay, secured with bungee cords. On the other side looked to be either a stable, or a paddock, or… something. I don’t know the terminology, but it looked like an area that could hold wildlife. In the back there was a ladder, leading up to a loft above us. There was a pervasive feeling about the place, like something was horribly _wrong_ with this picture. Like we shouldn’t be here.

It felt like we were stepping on something’s grave… and I considered that the thought may not be wholly inaccurate.

Even so, I looked at the interior of the barn as closely as I could. Given the darkness, I couldn’t make out color easily, even though everything else was plainly visible.

“I don’t see it,” I told Qrow. He gave me a nod, and took one tentative step inside the barn.

Something wooden creaked high overhead.

As one, we all turned to face each other, raised our weapons in hand, and looked up.

Deep crimson eyes stared back at us, full of loathing and spite. It opened its mouth to scream.

Qrow was faster.

Five shots rang out through the barn, and the sound of bullets rending flesh and breaking wood filled the air. An ugly, wet _thump_ came from just ahead of us, and I turned to see the Apathy, its corpse already beginning to dissolve into the air. Qrow looked at its body and shook his head, a deep frown fixed on his face.

“Something’s not right,” he murmured. “White-eyes, anything else?”

“That was it,” Fox confirmed, a similar frown on his face. “And now that I know what I’m searching for… nothing.” He turned to face Qrow. “I think that was it.”

“No,” Qrow said, his sword still held tightly in hand. “Apathy travel in packs. You don’t just get _one_ Apathy; even if you do try to capture one, the rest of the pack _will_ find it. It’s not a maybe kind of situation, the rest _will_ find them. And they move slow, but three weeks? They should have—”

My Scroll buzzed, loud and urgent. I took it from my pocket and checked the screen, my blood running cold as I saw what it was.

“Blake just sent a distress message,” I said, turning the screen to show Qrow. His eyes went wide as his face paled.

“We gotta get back to the house,” he said. “ _Now_!”

Qrow took off at a dead sprint, and Fox and I were right behind him. I saw Qrow pull out his Scroll and call as we ran, but I wasn’t paying any attention to that.

Blake had sent the distress signal. I needed to get there as soon as possible.

I did _not_ finally reunite with my sister just to _lose her again_.

  
*** * * * ***

Blake Belladonna stood on the back porch of a house that wasn’t hers, Gambol Shroud in hand, eyes and ears trained on the forest around them. A black ribbon obscured her feline ears from the world, disguising her nature, but not muffling the boon it gave her. It was a trick she’d learned from her time in the White Fang: when people know you’re a Faunus, but don’t immediately see your animal feature, they tend to make one of two assumptions. Some will assume that they just don’t have the right angle to see what it is, such as a Faunus’ tail not being visible from the front. Other times they’d assume that they were looking at a human-passing Faunus, like Noah. It was amazing just how many people saw a little black bow, and completely ignored the possibility of ears being hidden under there.

Velvet and Coco, her brother’s teammates, had both given her odd looks when they watched her put the ribbon on. Coco’s had been of uncertainty, followed by _approval_ , of all things, once she’d given Blake a once-over with the ribbon on. She got the distinct impression that the approval was _not_ at her hiding that she was a Faunus, but rather at the overall effect of her appearance. Velvet, on the other hand, had given a look of confusion, followed by understanding. That, in and of itself, confused Blake. What kind of understanding could the rabbit Faunus have gleaned from just… watching her put a ribbon over her ears?

The thought of her ears brought the discussion in the square back to Blake’s mind. A Grimm whose scream was its most dangerous weapon… she shuddered, thinking about just how _effective_ a monster like that would be against Faunus encampments. The White Fang tended to use Faunus with enhanced senses, Faunus like her, as their scouts and sentries. It made sense, given their ability to find possible threats that others couldn’t even _notice_. And yet, here was a Grimm that could take advantage of their unique abilities, what made them different— _better_ , some might say—than humans. A Grimm that could disable them—disable _her_ from further away, and far more effectively, than it could a human.

Blake remembered reading a text about how certain Grimm were adapted to hunting in particular environments, and other times Grimm changed to accommodate hunting a particular _culture_. The sand shark Charodons of Vacuo, in particular, rose to prominence as tribes and caravans grew bolder in their attempts to cross the desert separating Vacuo from its neighbor on Sanus, Vale. Three hundred years ago, prior to the mapping of accepted pathways, there hadn’t _been_ any Charodons. And yet, only thirty years later, sightings began.

And it made Blake wonder: had the first Apathy been adapted to hunt _Faunus_?

The thought chilled her, and her bow stopped her ears from folding down at the idea.

Off in the treeline, a group of birds flew away, chirping as they went. Blake stiffened, eyes scanning the forest in that general direction. When she saw nothing, she forced herself to relax, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. A beat passed, then two. Even as she searched, nothing moved before her eyes. Beneath her bow, her ears strained, looking for any errant sound that may—

A board behind her creaked beneath the weight of somebody on it, the sound so light as to be inaudible to a human.

But not to a _Faunus_.

Blake threw herself to the side, an ephemeral copy of herself taking its place. _Something_ passed through where she had been, gouging wood of the deck, and a shape displaced the fading wisps that remained of her clone as it dissipated. Blake raised Gambol Shroud and fired three times; her efforts were rewarded as somebody’s Aura flickered, and its owner appeared an instant later. Blake grit her teeth as her brow furrowed; it was the girl from yesterday, the one with the mint-green hair.

The girl stared at her with wide red eyes as Blake raised Gambol Shroud and fired again, but swift reflexes saved her Aura any more damage as she once more faded into nothing before Blake’s eyes.

“We’ve got company!” Blake yelled. “Mint-Green can—”

“ _Down_!” Coco yelled her command. Blake obeyed without a second thought, throwing herself to the deck as her brother’s leader filled the air with bullets. Only a few of them caught Mint-Green with glancing blows, but with whatever ammunition Coco was packing, those little hits were enough to throw Mint-Green a good dozen feet, where she rolled to a halt on the grass as her Aura shattered around her. “Keep an eye out f— _oomph_!” Her voice cut off with a crash of gunfire and breaking wood, followed by a pair of heavy footfalls landing on wooden flooring.

“Coco!” Blake turned away from Mint-Green to—

Something _slammed_ into the side of Blake’s head, throwing her into the wooden railing of the deck. Her Aura took the brunt of the hit, but she still slumped against the rail, blinking stars and blurriness out of her vision as she turned to see who had struck her.

A muddled figure of muted silver and gray, the silver-haired male who she’d seen following her brother’s team earlier, stood in the living room, his foot lowering from the follow-through of whatever he’d done to hit her. Blake heard the whine of Coco’s minigun warming up to fire, and fought to keep the smirk from spreading across her face; if a couple of glancing blows from that minigun had been enough to take out Mint-Green, then it wouldn’t need much more to—

Silver spun and rapidly kicked in Coco’s direction, the shotgun attachments on his boots firing off a pair of shells at Coco. Her minigun fell silent as Blake heard the telltale sound of somebody’s Aura breaking. At the same time, another sound came to Blake’s attention: crashing and sounds of a struggle upstairs. She had to do something. _Anything_.

Blake raised Gambol Shroud and squinted to steady her still-swimming vision, then fired off a trio of shots in his direction. One of them winged him in the arm, but the other two missed completely.

And now she had his full attention.

Blake forced herself to use her Semblance, the clone shoving her off to the side and behind cover before a burst of compressed air shattered the wood she’d been leaning on. She leaned around the edge of the patio door, and had to duck instantly back into cover when she saw the boy winding up with a kick. A shotgun shell blasted past where her head had just been. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and then with one more use of her Semblance, sent a clone rounding the door. The shotgun blast took it in the head and it faded away into nothingness.

But it had given Blake more than enough time to round the door in a crouch. She steadied her aim and fired full-automatic, four bullets taking him in the chest before he managed to duck out of the way. Blake grimaced—she’d seen his Aura take all four of them, and knew she had a ways to go before he was down. But how was she supposed to keep him busy and protect Coco, while there was another fight going on upstairs? Noah’s team had been tasked to protect Amber, and here she was, stuck downstairs. What was she supposed to do?

Blake sent another clone running into the living room, and winced as it was blown apart moments later. It was a stalemate, she realized. Unless somebody else arrived, then… wait, Blake realized. There _was_ somebody else.

The sound of gunfire from the living room rang in her ears, but she _recognized_ the sound of those guns. Except at the same time, she didn’t. Something about the sound was off, like it was being played through a speaker. Blake dared to glance into the living room, and felt her eyes widen.

Velvet stood there, the box she wore on the small of her back pulsing with a soft blue light. In her hands, she held a pair of hard-light wireframe constructs, gunblades that Blake would recognize anywhere, no matter the form. But what was more startling was the _way_ Velvet held her replicas of Fang and Claw.

She held them at the ready, Fang held low and back in her left, Claw up and in front of her with an arm bent, ready to swing, block, or parry. It was _Noah’s_ stance.

Velvet squeezed the trigger on her copy of Fang, throwing her forward as she brought Claw around to strike at the kickboxer in front of her. He knocked her faux-Claw up and out of the way with a strike from his hands, then moved to kick Velvet in center mass as she was stuck in the follow-through. But an instant later, Velvet fired a round from Claw, and the recoil sent her beneath the man’s leg, her copy of Fang raking across the weapon on his grounded foot. The sound of metal rending metal filled the air, and with one more shot, Velvet was clear as the kickboxer looked down in shock at his ruined weapon.

“You…” he snarled, glaring at Velvet with hate in his eyes. “You _fucking_ —”

The sound of shattered glass came from upstairs, and an instant later a _third_ assailant landed beside the fallen form of Mint-Green in the yard. She wore a deep black catsuit, a half-empty quiver slung along her back and a metal bow with bladed arms in her hand. She rolled twice before coming to a stop, and looked up, her eyes widening behind the butterfly-shaped mask she wore once they landed on Mint-Green, who lay there unconscious.

“Retreat!” She reached down to grab Mint-Green, and a wave of her hand melted the broken glass around her before it reformed into a barrier in front of the two, which blocked the bullets Blake sent her way.

“But—”

“ _Now_!”

Silver grimaced at this, but reached into a pocket and pulled something out, at the same time that the new woman did. He threw it at the ground, and an instant later Blake _screamed_ in pain, her hands flying up to protect the ears hidden beneath her bow, and stars bloomed in her vision as a bright light temporarily blinded her. She could dimly make out Velvet’s identical scream of pain as she fell to the floor, eyes screwed shut and whimpering as she waited for the world to stop buzzing and sparking at her.

She wasn’t sure how long the they lay there; Blake dimly recalled a pair of small, warm hands helping her up and leading her to something soft, and the comfort of a sofa or mattress as she waited for the ringing in her ears and the sunspots flashing in her vision to go away.

A hand landed on her shoulder some time later, shaking her gently. Blake opened one eye and couldn’t help the relief that flooded her when she saw Noah staring back, his own golden gaze filled with worry.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Nngh…” Next to Blake, Velvet stirred, a hand going to rest against her forehead. “Aah, my ears… what, what happened? Did they get away?”

A moment later, Noah had grabbed both his fellow Faunus in a hug, pulling them close. Blake could feel the urgency and fear in him, even as the tension in his shoulders slowly unwound.

“You’re okay,” he said, voice breathy with relief. “You’re both okay… what happened? The whole place is just—”

“It was Mint-Green and Silver,” Blake said, her voice low, a throbbing behind her eyes telling her that even this much was pushing it and that she _really_ needed to rest. “There was one more, s-she wore black, and… controlled glass? I think?”

“Three of them?” Another voice broke in. Blake looked past Noah to see Qrow standing before the ruins of what had been the dining room table, and Amber sitting in one of the intact chairs, her hands white-knuckled as she bunched up the fabric of her skirt in her fists. Beyond him, she saw the other boy on Noah’s team—Fox, that was his name—tending to Coco, helping collapse her minigun back into a purse before carrying her over to one of the more intact armchairs in the room.

“Three,” Velvet confirmed. “I got a clear photo of the one in black, I think. I’ll have to check.”

“If you did, then at least _something_ came of this mess,” Qrow said, tapping at his Scroll before holding it up to his ear for an audio call. “Oz, it’s Qrow. We need a bullhead at the ‘cottage’ yesterday. Seven passengers.” He stopped, listening to the voice on the other end. “Yeah. Belladonna’s little tagalong, and your niece. It ain’t safe out here anymore… three, yeah. They got thrown for a loop Oz, we’ll get a full debrief back at Beacon. Right. Got it. See you soon.” Qrow ended the call and put his Scroll away, turning to the occupants of the room. “Bullhead’s gonna be here in an hour and a half. Rest up until then kids; you’ve earned it.”

Blake let out a breath of relief, resting more of her weight on Noah, who still held her in a hug. She closed her eyes, letting her breathing deepen.

Rest… rest sounded like a good option right now.

  
*** * * * ***

“What happened!?” Emerald flinched away before her, but she paid the fear and shock in the girl’s eyes no mind. “We went in the back to _not_ have to deal with a Faunus, but you were _still_ found. What. _Happened_!?”

“I, I don’t know!” Emerald blurted out, backing away from her until a tree trunk prevented the girl from getting any further. Even still, her eyes shifted from side to side, searching for an escape—a reflex Cinder had yet to break her of doing in her presence, it seemed. “I had everything masked, and she _still_ found me!”

“She heard you,” Mercury spoke up, not looking up from where he busied himself with that ridiculous contraption he called a weapon; Cinder couldn’t help but bristle at the impropriety he showed, not even bothering to _look at her_ when he spoke. “Girl went down to a flashbang like a Faunus with extra ears. Bet it was hidden behind the bow.”

Cinder stopped, turning that over in her head. The girl did look _remarkably_ similar to the pale-skinned male from the team of Beacon rookies accompanying _Branwen_ —the same boy that Emerald noted had reacted _poorly_ to an absurdly minor slight against his fellow _animals_. She wanted to rage, to express her _fury_ at the absurdity of it. A plan with three separate means of coming to fruition, failed… because of a Faunus with a _little black bow_.

“C-Cinder?” She cast her gaze back to Emerald, who flinched away as if struck. “W-what… what do we do now? The plan—”

“Is _ruined_ ,” Cinder spat, fists clenched tight. “It—”

“May yet work,” a new voice spoke, echoing through the clearing that the erstwhile trio occupied. A chill ran down Cinder’s spine, her eyes flying wide as her eyes landed upon a dull crimson shape, swiftly approaching.

The Seer Grimm floated into the clearing, its blade-tipped tendrils drifting limply behind it. She relaxed a fraction, but only that; had its mistress truly been wroth, the Seer’s ribbon tentacles would have writhed, coiling in the air, awaiting an impulse from its eldritch mistress to skewer anything before it.

“Lady Salem!” She held herself stiff, and at attention. “I… Pardon my ignorance, but what do you mean? My plan—”

“Your plan was sound, dear Cinder, but we are not the only ones with plans in motion.” Within the Seer’s giant eye, Salem canted her head to the side. “For the moment, the Fall Maiden is out of our grasp… but the greater outline of your designs may yet be salvaged, I do believe.”

“But how?” Cinder asked, her voice small. Small as it had been when she had first come across the Witch. Small as it had been when she’d been but a glorified slave, powerless before those with money and influence. “Without the powers of the Fall Maiden, we can’t retrieve the—”

“The Crown of Choice was _never_ the true objective, Cinder dear.” Salem smiled, and Cinder felt the blood in her veins turn to ice. She’d been… _wrong?_ “Your objective was twofold: divide the kingdoms by destroying the CCT… and _remove Ozpin_. The powers of the Maiden would have helped, yes…”

The Seer’s glass orb cracked, splitting open as a rush of acrid, deep-black smoke filled the air. Moments later, a heavy presence fell over the area, as the smoke cleared to reveal the Queen of the Grimm herself, resplendent in her malefic glory. Emerald and Mercury leapt away, and Cinder herself was quick to try and kneel. But Salem reached out a hand and grasped her by the forehead, pulling her close as _something_ flowed from the Queen’s hand and into her.

“But it’s become abundantly clear that my methods have become… _predictable_. And even so, there is more than one way to make a Maiden.” Salem smiled, her outstretched hand alight with arcane energy.

And Cinder’s eyes _burned_ with umbral flame.


	9. Chapter 9

“So that is what happened, then.” 

Headmaster Ozpin said from behind his desk, a stern, yet concerned look on his features. We were arrayed before him, Amber and Qrow on one end, then the rest of Team CFVN in initial order, and Blake next to me on the end. We had just finished relaying the full story of everything that had happened on our mission, and presented Velvet’s two photographs: one of Silver, and one of Catsuit carrying Mint-Green.

“Well, it is good that you are all back safe and sound, if a tad worse for wear. Even if you did pick up a stray along the way.” 

His gaze was set firmly upon Blake, who stiffened and looked away, her ears pinned down in shame or embarrassment. I took a step closer and in front of her, and felt my sister nudge me with her arm in thanks.

“Things went a bit tits-up out there,” Qrow said, breaking off from us and walking around towards Ozpin’s desk. He sat on the front of the desk and looked at us, a neutral expression on his face. “I know this ain’t quite what you signed up for, and _definitely_ wasn’t on the Kitten’s agenda when she ran off. But they did good, Oz. Gotta give the kids some credit.”

“Believe me, I do. That said, there are a few things that need taken care of before we can put this mess to bed. First, Miss Belladonna.”

“Y-yes?” Blake asked. I stayed put where I was in front of her and crossed my arms, hiding her even further from view.

“Mr. Belladonna, while your protectiveness is admirable, it is not necessary. If you would please.” I studied him for a moment before stepping back again, though I kept myself close to Blake. “Thank you. Now as I was saying. Miss Belladonna: before I say anything else, let me be clear that these were extraordinary circumstances. Were they not, you would be in quite a bit of trouble for even knowing somebody who could hack a Scroll’s transponder via the CCT.” Ozpin stopped, letting that information sink in. Blake was shaking, and I put a hand on her shoulder to help steady her, which she leaned into. “However, as I mentioned: these _were_ extraordinary circumstances, and rank has its privileges. Miss Belladonna—Blake. Though your actions were brash and foolhardy, in making that decision, you have done me a great service. Were it not for you, the only person in this world that I may yet call family might not be here today. And as a result, I owe you a debt of gratitude that I will likely never repay.”

“I—um…” I could practically see the flush on my sister’s face as she rubbed at one arm, ears flicking to and fro. “I… don’t know what to say to that.”

“Perhaps you don’t, but I do. Blake, while I doubt I’ll ever fully repay you, I can make a start. As part of my thanks, I would like to offer you admission to Beacon at the beginning of next school year.” My eyes shot wide, and I could tell Blake’s did too. From the multiple sudden intakes of breath I heard, this was as shocking to everyone else as it is to me. “Until such time, I can make arrangements to either have you live in Vale to be closer to your brother, as well as let you attend a combat academy of your choosing in or around Vale until such time as you matriculate to Beacon.”

“I’d recommend Signal,” Qrow added in. “I got family there, can introduce ya so you ain’t left stuck in a new environment with no friends. Plus, not much in the way of discrimination out on Patch. Not much in the way of White Fang either,” he finished with a knowing look at Blake. I glared back at Qrow even as he smirked, but Blake stood strong despite what he said.

“Do I have to—” Blake swallowed, looking back at me. I saw so much doubt in her eyes, so much _fear_ ; it was all I could do to keep myself from hugging her right then. “How long do I have to decide?”

“I think we can afford you a few days,” Ozpin said, making a note of it. “In the meantime, I’ve assigned you some guest quarters not far from your brother’s dormitory, or I can have a cot brought into their room, whichever you would prefer. There are also some matters that I must discuss with Team CFVN in private; if you would please go meet my Deputy Headmistress outside, she will escort you to your quarters.”

“Thank you,” Blake said, relief in her voice. She turned around and gave me a hug, which I returned with gusto, pulling her tight even as I felt her ears tickling the side of my chin as they twitched. “I’ll see you outside?”

“Yeah,” I told her with a smile. Once Blake left the office, I turned towards Ozpin. “Thank you.”

“What for?” Ozpin asked with a smile. “I did nothing more than offer a reward as thanks.”

I shook my head, but I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I have zero doubts in my mind that Ozpin knew _exactly_ what he’d just done. That he knew _exactly_ what kind of situation Blake was in, and what he was doing for her with this offer.

“Back to the matter at hand,” Ozpin continued, drawing our attention. “Coco Adel. Fox Alistair. Velvet Scarlatina. Noah Belladonna. The four of you have been apprised of one of the most important secrets of the modern day: magic’s continued existence. This is a fact whose continued secrecy is of grave concern not just to me, but also to Amber, and to the continued existence of the Kingdoms as we know them.”

“What do you mean by that?” Coco asked. “If magic exists, and it’s as impressive as you seem to be implying, why are we not training the Maidens and sending them out to combat the Grimm? Why are we keeping it a secret?”

“Well first,” Qrow took the opportunity to answer the question, “there’s only four of them. One woman can’t protect an entire Kingdom, no matter how strong she is. And if you wanna know why it’s best the Maidens not be in the limelight, well… ever wonder why so many fairy tales have a ‘Dread Empress’ this and ‘Black Queen’ that?”

“Unfortunately, the process by which the mantle of Maiden is passed down is… less than perfect,” Ozpin hedged. “It was not uncommon for the power to fall into the hands of a woman with less moral fibre or strength of character than dear Amber, here. Which is part of _why_ , while you know about the Maidens, we will not be revealing how the mantle is passed, or anything else about them. All you need to know is that the four Maidens exist, and Amber is the current Fall Maiden. Now with that being said: if you have any questions relevant to what you already know, and that would not force us to divulge anything more, I would be happy to answer them.”

“U-um…” Velvet raised her hand, before seeming to realize that we weren’t in a classroom and pulling it back down. “W-what happens to Amber now? Is she… staying at Beacon?”

“I am,” Amber confirmed, favoring Velvet with a soft smile. “I will miss my home in the woods, but I would rather be around more people who can help, should it be needed. And it was rather lonely out there,” she said, her tone melancholy. 

“Will we see you around?” Velvet had her hands clasped in front of her, her ears running limp and running down the back of her head as she fidgeted.

“Um…” Amber looked to Ozpin for confirmation. He gave a nod, and Amber’s face lit up with a brilliant smile. “In that case, yes, I suppose you will! And Mr. Alistair will hear me around as well.” She walked over to Fox and put a hand on his shoulder. He put his own hand atop hers and smiled back. Coco, Velvet, and I all shared a look at that, smiles between us. Yeah, it was clear: Amber was good people.

“Was there anything else you needed us for?” Coco asked, her posture and tone shifting to match the confidence she liked to project.

“Yes and no,” Ozpin said. “As you know, the other teams in your year are not due to return until the end of the week, which means you will have a few days’ free time; be sure to use it well. Additionally, Mr. Belladonna.” I tilted my head in acknowledgement as he looked at me. “Given the nature of your Semblance and how Qrow told me it interacts with magic, I would like to have a word or two with you.”

“That’s fine,” I said, looking at my partner. “Hey Vel, could you keep Blake company until I’m done?”

“Of course!” Velvet said, perking up.”

“Wonderful,” Ozpin said. “As for the rest of Team CFVN, I do believe that once you have collected Miss Belladonna, she and Amber are due for a tour of Beacon’s grounds. Qrow, you may join them if you wish.”

“Nah,” he said, even as he joined Amber and the rest of my team on their way to the elevator. “Gonna stop by Patch, give the girls a visit. Until next time, Oz.”

“Indeed.” Ozpin waited until the elevator door had closed behind the five of them before gesturing to the side, and then to the front of his desk. “Please, there are chairs on the side; grab one and take a seat.” I looked to the side and did indeed see some chairs, simple wooden numbers with what looked to be comfortable green upholstery on the seat, back, and arms. I carried the chair over to the front of his desk with minimal effort and sat down. 

“Thank you again,” I said. “For what you did for Blake. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, I didn’t,” he agreed, smiling gently. “But I believe in attempting to help where I can, if it is within my power to do so. And a young woman as exemplary as your sister deserves to see her talent and potential recognized.”

“Doesn’t change the point,” I said, relaxing a bit. “It was good of you. It… it says a lot.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “Now, Mr. Belladonna back to the topic at hand. I must ask: have you tried to use the magic that your Semblance attempted to copy yet?”

“No,” I answered. “Honestly? I’m…” I waffled a bit. “I don’t think I want to. There’s two separate bits of magic there,” I explained. “One of them feels wild, primal, but… familiar, in a way?” Ozpin nodded, and motioned for me to keep going. “The other feels warm. Like, standing in the sunlight on a pleasant day warm. But when I try to reach for it, that warmth suddenly feels like it’s trying to burn me, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” he said. “That first bit of magic is… let us call it a boon, passed down through generations, and most recently conferred upon Mr. Branwen. As far as magic goes, it is nothing more than a parlor trick—and yet, it is a truly valuable skill. The magic looks deep into your soul to find an animal that exemplifies your nature and _desires_ , and brings it to the fore, trading its shape for yours.”

“Let me guess: he turns into a crow,” I said.

“Magic, when allowed discretion, tends to be a bit on the nose,” he said with a chuckle. “If you would like, you may attempt to use this magic for yourself. I only ask that you not be sitting in the chair while you do so.”

“I… I can?” I asked, confused at just how _personable_ Ozpin was being. At his nod, though, I stood up from the chair and walked beside it. Then, I reached for my Semblance, trying to find that bright, primal glimmer that I’d picked up from Qrow… and pulled on it.

The world shifted around me, and a moment later my balance was _all off_. I was down on all fours, my teeth sat oddly in my mouth, and—huh, so that’s what Blake’s ears feel like when she’s moving them… oh hang on, is that a tail?

Yes, yes that is a tail.

I tried to take a tentative step forward, and almost instantly collapsed into a sprawl on the floor of Ozpin’s office. Whatever this magic did, what it did _not_ do was come with an instruction manual. I tried to voice my annoyance, but all I got was a loud, low growl.

“I am afraid that it will take quite some practice for you to accustom yourself to your secondary form,” Ozpin said with a chuckle. “Once you master it, it will be a potent asset, both for you and your team. Though I must say it is rather fitting, knowing what I do of you. Unfortunately, I do not believe you can talk like that, so if you would not mind changing back?” 

Didn’t need much more prompting than that; this felt _weird_ , and I’d be glad when it was over for the moment. I reached out for that ball of magic again, and an instant later felt _right_ . I had fingers again, and hair, and lips— _lips_ , that can make _words_! And my teeth were in all the right spots!

“What kind of cat was I?” I asked.

“What kind of Faunus are you?” Ozpin answered. I felt my eyes widen as a smile crossed my face, and Ozpin nodded with an answering smile in answer. “Onto the second bit of magic though,” he continued, his tone turning grim. “A fragment of the Fall Maiden’s power. You mentioned that when you reached for it, you felt a sort of burning?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It was almost painful, actually.”

“As I thought,” Ozpin said. “You can copy the power, but you are not suited to _use_ it, merely serve as a vessel, of sorts. I am not as yet certain of just what this will entail for you, so if you could offer me a bit of patience on that front?”

“Of course,” I said, rolling my neck to work out the kinks. “Gah, that _still_ feels weird.”

“I would imagine it does,” he said. And then, he sighed. “Mr. Belladonna—Noah. When you were in my office two days ago, you seemed tense. On edge.” I had to carefully control my breathing as he said this, and it took a serious effort of will to not lock eyes with Ozpin in challenge. He got up from his desk and procured a kettle, two spoons, and two mugs, spooned a powder into the mugs, then poured steaming hot water (Dust is ridiculous, believe me) into the mugs before carrying them to the table. He passed one over to me, and I saw hot cocoa, which I stirred with the spoon he provided. “Little happens on this campus that I am not aware of, but even so, I have often found it helpful to simply talk.”

“About what?” I asked, apprehensive. I could feel heat rising up from my stomach, up my spine and into my arms, while an odd weakness similarly took my legs. I was anxious, very much so: there were only a few reasons for Ozpin— _Ozpin_ —to be talking like this, and none of them boded well for me.

“Anything you like,” he said, tone calm and patient, “if that would help ease your mind.”

I started to think about what I wanted to say, taking a sip of my cocoa as I did. Something that he’d mentioned a few days ago had stuck with me, and I turned it over and over in my mind, trying to understand _why_ it stood out.

“When you were giving Fox suggestions on how to train his Semblance,” I ventured cautiously, watching Ozpin’s face for any sign of change, “that sounded like it was from experience.”

“Of a sort,” Ozpin readily admitted, his posture and tone still loose, open. “I cannot deny that to some, the mind is an open book, and I am fortunate to count myself among their number. But even with that, nothing is more insightful than seeing what words a student uses to voice their thoughts.”

I thought about it for a moment. Ozpin had all but just confirmed to me that he was, to some extent, a telepath. Or maybe he had just used very clever wordplay to make me _think_ he was a telepath, but if I start going down that rabbit hole I’m going to be here all day. Okay Noah, think: let’s assume that Ozpin _is_ a telepath, or at the very _least_ an experienced cold-reader. There is no way in hell that he missed my reaction to seeing Qrow’s picture on the monitor, and a _negative_ chance that he missed how I reacted to seeing _Amber’s_ . If he is telepathic, then I don’t know to what extent that is; he could be reading my mind this very instant, or even going through my memories one by one as I sat here; he did, after all, instruct Fox to train his Semblance by _trying to do exactly that_. 

Which means that I was probably up shit creek without a paddle. No matter what thought came to mind, Ozpin would likely already know it. Whatever I know, Ozpin either already knows that too, or _can_ know it the instant he believes he has reason to go rummaging through my brain. But beyond that, beyond all of that… Ozpin had a point. It _was_ helpful to talk. To let things out, to keep the negative feelings from festering. 

“... before it turned violent, and before my father stepped down from his position as High Leader, I was in the White Fang.” Ozpin leaned towards me in interest, and I continued. “We weren’t doing violent protest, but Dad’s philosophy was simple: ‘I will not hurt you, but I will not let you hurt me’. He was a pacifist, only using force when he thought it was the only possible course of action. And seven years ago, one of those times happened.

“We’d had a protest on SDC property the other day,” I said. “One of their newer facilities, a regional office in Argus. What we didn’t know is that this facility had a new security measure installed: underground fencing that could be raised with the push of a button, seamlessly hidden beneath the pavement. Our protest started up well, to the point that Argus’ police made the SDC security forces pull back their perimeter because the amount of protesters was starting to spill into the street and impede traffic. What we _didn’t_ know was that once they pulled back and we pushed forward, some of the protesters were over the line of the new fencing. I don’t know whose choice it was, but that fencing came up, and it split off the front row of protesters from the rest, trapping people on SDC property, with SDC private security guards.” 

“And where were you in this?” Ozpin asked, a heavy frown on his face.

“I was up in the front, and got separated from the back,” I told him. “I was specifically with two other people: my sister, and Sienna Khan.”

“You know her well?” He framed it as a question, though I believe he expected my answer.

“She changed my diapers,” I deadpanned, to which his eyes went wide. Or not, I suppose. “Anyway. Once we got separated, Sienna hoisted Blake and me over the fence, and started getting as many people out as she could, with some help from those of us on the other side who had Aura. As I’m sure you can guess though, we didn’t succeed: by the time Sienna herself had to finally give up and scale the security fence herself, the SDC had ‘apprehended’ three ‘trespassers’.

“We went down to the police station to wait and petition for their release. Imagine our surprise when the police tell us they didn’t receive any transports from SDC security personnel, and in fact, had no reason to believe that the regional office’s security had detained anybody at all.”

“Three members of the White Fang, held captive by the SDC under false pretenses,” Ozpin mused. “I’ve met your father once or twice, Noah. I know he is not a man to turn to violence easily, but even the gentlest man has a point at which he must fight. And I presume that this was his.”

“It was,” I confirmed. “He went in with three other people: Sienna Khan, a chameleon Faunus named Kama Amitola, and…” I paused. “A young prodigy. Bull Faunus named _Adam Taurus_ ,” I bit out at the end. “The four of them got in and out within twenty minutes, only to find that one of them had already freed the other two, before being incapacitated by her own Semblance. The other two were fine, but my father had to carry Olivia Delphi to a Faunus friendly doctor, and… hold her down. Stop her from hurting herself. That’s when he called to have me brought over.”

“Her Semblance was the cause of her self-harm?” Ozpin asked. “I know of a few types of Semblances that could drive a person to that… but they are few and far between. Exceedingly rare, _powerful_ Semblances.”

“It is,” I said with a sigh. “Or it would have been. Olivia didn’t know how to control it. She’d used it to find the patrol and guard schedules, to find the passcode that opened her cell, to find the exit. But then it must’ve just… gone out of control. I got within range of her, and I _instantly_ got her Semblance. A moment later, I got closer and felt my Semblance _again_.”

“Somebody else used theirs to subdue her? Or…”

“She’d gotten loose for just a moment and carved her own eyes out,” I said, and Ozpin recoiled. “Her Semblance was sight-based. But even without her eyes, it still _worked_. She was still seeing visions.” I slumped in my seat, looking into the dull brown of my half-empty hot cocoa. “She killed herself after overpowering the people holding her down.”

Ozpin slid a hand over the desk and put it on mine. I looked up, and couldn’t mistake the empathy in his gaze for anything else.

“I am sorry that you had to experience that at so young an age,” he said.

“It gets worse,” I told him. “Sienna asked me to see what her Semblance was. We knew that her issue is that she couldn’t control it, but I wouldn’t have that issue: I could just stop it any time by using somebody else’s Semblance. So… I looked.” I took a deep breath, glad that Ozpin had chosen not to say anything. “I saw _Adam_ , older, raising his sword to kill a man. I saw _Blake_ , older, bleeding, and crawling away from somebody. I saw my parents, fighting as our home on Kuo Kuana burned down around them.” I looked to meet Ozpin in the eyes. “I didn’t see myself. I saw the people I was close to, and the people that would affect them, and the people that would affect _them_.” I chuckled, ruefully. “I’m still not sure whether to call it Foresight or Hindsight. I feel the former’s more factual, but the latter… the latter’s more accurate, what with how things ended up.”

“Noah.” Ozpin’s voice was level, controlled. I don’t think I could have said the same if I was in his situation. “Did you try to act on what you saw?”

“Yes. I… I failed.” I looked back down into my mug. “Adam Taurus used to be a good man. He… he had his demons, I won’t deny that. But I’d thought, _hoped_ that I was getting through to him. But at the end of the day…”

_“He’s not a threat!” I yelled back, getting up from my knee and creeping forward. Adam jerked his head slightly in my direction, and I froze. “Blake!” I yelled at where my sister stood, a few paces away from Adam. “Please, get him to stop!”_

_“H-he…” Blake stammered, eyes wide. Frozen. She was too young for this, I thought as my heart clenched painfully. She was_ twelve _. “N-Noah, I—“_

_“Death to the human!” Adam hissed, voice tight. “Death to the SDC!”_

_Adam brought the blade down, and—_

“It still happened,” I said. “The _exact_ circumstances were different, but Adam still killed an unarmed man, for nothing more than having the wrong job. The White Fang still changed. I still left. Blake still stayed with the White Fang. And… everything still went wrong. So horribly, horribly wrong.”

“And you wish you could forget it,” Ozpin finished for me. I could only nod. “You feel that this is a burden, this knowledge of things to come.”

“It’s not accurate anymore,” I said. “The visions haven’t changed, not since that same day. Even things that I _know_ can’t happen anymore, I still see them occur. I think that when I copied her Semblance, I copied at _as it worked on that day_. So the future it shows me is what the future would have been, if everything else from that day played out the same.”

“And yet, that does not invalidate some of the knowledge you have gleaned from it, does it?” Ozpin asked, his voice level, his tone understanding. “You may know that the exact details of what you saw won’t come to pass, but that does not make the knowledge any less heavy to bear.”

“It’s even worse,” I said. “Because now I have to sift _through_ it, and find what’s useful. And I don’t know if I have the right context for that, or…” I shook my head. “I don’t know if I should be trusted with some of this information. It’s…”

“You knew about the Maidens before Qrow told you.”

“I had an idea,” I said. “Her Semblance—it’s not exact. Imagine a video recording, but the playback speed keeps changing, and it skips around. But every so often it just stops, and loops, right on the most horrible details. I had to watch Blake get stabbed _thirteen times_ before I saw anything else,” I revealed. “But yes, I had an idea. And…”

I felt nauseous. My palms were clammy, I could tell, and I took a sip of my cocoa to try to calm my nerves. I wanted to say it. I wanted to say it so very, _very_ badly. Keeping secrets, it _hurt_. I knew the man in front of me. He was a master manipulator, a puppet-master, a conniver. He took people and bent them to his purpose, living on even after they were long gone. He was an echo of the past, something that did not belong in this modern era.

And yet, despite all of that, he was still a _good person_ . The weight of millennia, and honest to goodness _divine purpose_ sat upon his shoulders… and yet, even with all the tragedy he’d faced, he was still, at the end of the day, a _good person_ . He wasn’t perfect. He made mistakes. But as can clearly be seen by Remnant’s state, even the _gods_ can err.

And I… I was just tired of _hiding_ it.

“... your daughters,” I asked Ozpin, after five long minutes of silence. “Did any of them survive, when you and Salem fought?”

Ozpin’s mug slipped from limp fingers, spilling hot cocoa onto the table, though thankfully not in either of our directions. He didn’t breathe for a long moment, eyes wider than I’d imagined they could even go. When he did finally speak, his voice was rasping. Scared.

“H- _how_ —”

“The lamp,” I said. “Jinn. She showed people, and…” I paused. “I wasn’t able to tell. She showed you—or, _a_ you, asking a question. What was it?” I asked. “What did she say?”

Ozpin closed his eyes, resting his hands on the desk as he collected himself. He took three deep breaths before standing up from his desk, turning to face the windows looking out towards Vale.

“I asked,” he began, voice fraught with emotion, “how I can destroy Salem. And Jinn said… that I can’t.”

“Headmaster.” I stood up and walked around the desk, moving to stand next to him at the window. “All due respect. Next time you go talk to an omniscient wellspring of knowledge, who will likely interpret whatever you ask for as broadly as possible, and is limited only by the terms you provide?” Ozpin turned towards me, his expression painfully blank. “Hire a damn lawyer to write your question.”

He gave me a look. It was measured, calculating, pensive. But it was also appreciative. And finally, _finally_ , the smallest ghost of a smile appeared on Ozpin’s face.

“It would seem that all my time chasing a solution has dulled my ingenuity some,” Ozpin said, cleaning up the spilled cocoa on his desk with a towel from his desk drawer. He took the mugs to refill them, and motioned for me to take my seat again, which I obliged. “I don’t know.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“I don’t know if any of my daughters survived,” he answered. “I did not reincarnate until sixteen years after my initial death. At that point, I didn’t have the Relic of Knowledge, nor the resources to go looking. And by the time I did have access to Jinn…” He sighed. “I’d been grieving for hundreds, possibly even thousands of years. I was too afraid of the answer, of opening old wounds.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say; nothing seemed like it would be enough. Not in the face of… of _this_. “For what little it’s worth.”

“Your condolences are worth more than you know,” he said, favoring me with a smile before leaning forward, expression serious once more. “Now. Is there anything else you are able to share.”

“Yes,” I answered, matching his in leaning over the table.

And so… we talked. Of futures long dead, and futures yet to come.


	10. Chapter 10

Hours had passed by the time Ozpin and Mr. Bell— _Noah_ , Ozpin mentally amended, he deserved at least that much for the trust he’d been willing to show—finished their discussion. It had left him with a wealth of information to work from, information that he wasn’t certain he could have come by any other way… but with that information came new concerns, new questions, and the frightening revelation that he had allowed himself to become _complacent_.  
  
And against an implacable, tireless foe like Salem, complacency was death. A long, slow death, but it was all the same in the end.  
  
“I apologize to have kept you for so long,” Ozpin offered by way of consolation. “For as useful as this time was, I am certain you would rather have spent it with your sister.”  
  
“Not sure there’s anything worth apologizing for,” Noah said as he stood from his chair, and then moved the chair to the side of the office. Ozpin couldn’t help but notice that the ever-present tension that Noah had carried in his shoulders from day one had lessened, and his movements were looser. He had to wonder how long the boy had been carrying this weight on his shoulders. He knew only too well just what kind of burden the future could be.  
  
“Oh, and Noah?” Ozpin called out as the young man was about to enter the elevator.  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“My advice with regards to Mr. Alistair’s Semblance was from my experience as an _educator_ , as opposed to personal experience.”  
  
Ozpin saw Noah blink at that, only to chuckle as the realization filtered through.  
  
“A bluff, huh?”  
  
“More me letting you know that you need not fear the sanctity of your own thoughts around me,” Ozpin assuaged. “Perceptive I may be, but psychic I am not.”  
  
“Still. I’m glad I could finally talk about it. Thank you, Headmaster.”  
  
“Ozpin,” he corrected. “I believe that you’ve more than earned the right to a bit of familiarity in private.”  
  
“Right,” Noah said, getting into the elevator. “Thanks again… Ozpin.”  
  
He smiled at the young student as the elevator’s doors closed. Once he was gone from the office, however, Oz’s smile inverted, his thoughts racing a mile a minute.  
  
For Noah to have known that information about his past, _Ozma’s_ past, somebody had used Jinn. He knew who the current Spring Maiden was now—and oh, the _irony_ of that one, his old protege who no longer wanted anything to do with him now being inextricably tied to his eternal struggle—but the two of them were uncertain as to what circumstances surrounded the Lamp’s use. What he _did_ know, however, was that there must have been a _substantial_ deterioration of trust for the Lamp’s question to have been used on _him_.  
  
That, more than anything else, was the greatest failing that this day had pointed out. The greatest casualty of his complacency was the death of trust. He’d grown so used to keeping secrets, so inured to those secrets’ _weight_ , that he had never considered just what could be gained from _sharing_ the information. There were ways to rectify that, however… and possibly a way to kill two birds with one stone, as it were.  
  
Ozpin’s fingers flew over his keyboard, sending a message to two of the other three Headmasters—and wasn’t that the painful revelation, that Lionheart had become so craven as to deal with Remnant’s personal devil. How many lives had he traded? How many more would he have offered for his own skin?... no, now was not the time to dwell on that. He sent the message, paged Glynda to join him in his office, and sent one more email to Qrow to find him sometime in the next couple of days. Qrow had earned some respite, but he would have need of the man’s services in the immediate future.  
  
Five minutes passed, and the elevator dinged, opening up to reveal Glynda Goodwitch. She entered his office with a worried expression, concern rolling off of her in waves.  
  
“Oz, is something the matter?”  
  
“Something, yes,” he stated, tenting his hands and resting his chin upon them. “It would seem that we have come across a veritable gold mine of information, with… disturbing implications.” He looked down at his terminal, seeing the responses come in from the two he’d requested. “A bit of patience, please. I know you’re curious, but I would rather only go through this explanation once.”  
  
“I understand,” Glynda said. When she didn’t say anything else, Oz took the opportunity to set up a conference call. The display projectors in the center of his office lit up, and a moment later two screens appeared. On the left was Theodore Gale, Headmaster of Shade Academy. He was a man with auburn hair and warm brown eyes, clad in a light blue linen suit. His complexion would have been pale if not for the heat of Vacuo’s sun, making his skin more akin to a light leather. On the right stood a man with deep black hair going gray at the sides, stern, steely eyes, and a strip of silver metal above his right brow. He wore a pristine white overcoat, and even over video, Oz could see just how carefully General James Ironwood ironed, pressed, and starched his garb.  
  
“James, Theodore,” he greeted. “I hope that I have not caught either of you at an inopportune time.”  
  
 _“Hard to say that such a thing exists in Vacuo,”_ Theodore said, a slight drawl to his words. _“A good time’s when I say it is, here.”  
  
“I have tasked my most trusted Specialist to handle things for the moment,”_ James revealed. Then, the man’s expression turned to a frown. _“Oz, aren’t we missing someone?”_  
  
“It is slightly odd that we are leaving Leonardo out of the loop,” Glynda added, sharing a glance with James, even through the monitor.  
  
“That,” he said with a heavy sigh, “is part of the reason I wanted to talk to you. First, though. Earlier today, Autumn was attacked.” Simultaneous hisses of breath came from both James and Theodore.  
  
 _“Was it an isolated incident?”_ James asked. _“Do we have any reason to believe that the other Maidens are also in danger?”_  
  
“Thankfully no,” Oz said. “However, this was just the prelude to a fair bit more information finding its way into my lap. Much of it is worrisome. Do either of you remember when the previous Spring Maiden went missing?”  
  
 _“I do indeed, and don’t think I missed that word choice of yours Oz,”_ Theodore said, a hand rubbing his chin in thought. _“Leonardo was_ delightfully _vague about it though, and truth be told, his tale felt a bit tall.”_  
  
“It is with a heavy heart that I have to confirm your suspicions, Theodore. Leonardo has been turned,” Oz revealed. “I do not know when, nor for how long. Only that it was likely around the time the previous Spring Maiden disappeared, which means we must start looking into countermeasures. James, how much force are you able to project into Mistral, using the defense of Argus as an excuse?”  
  
 _“Theoretically? The entirety of Mistral. Practically, though, I would either have to split the continent north-south or east-west, and defend the half that Argus is in. I’ll get on that as soon as we’re done here.”_  
  
“Make sure it’s subtle,” Oz said. “Additionally, I know Argus has historically been the broom closet you promote somebody to in order to keep them out of trouble, but that is going to have to change. Make sure somebody you trust implicitly is in charge there. They are going to be important.”  
  
 _“Understood,”_ James confirmed. _“Before we go any further, though. The_ previous _Spring Maiden?”_  
  
“I have it on good authority that the current Spring Maiden… is none other than Raven Branwen.”  
  
The office went dead silent for a moment. Oz swore he would have heard a pin drop if it had happened.  
  
“... Oz, you can’t be serious,” Glynda said. “ _Raven_?  
  
“It gets worse,” Ozpin said. “James, you also need to scrub _all_ of the code Atlas, Mantle, Amity, and the CCT use. Anything that Arthur Watts had a hand in creating has to go.”  
  
 _“He’s alive? But…”_ James trailed off, collecting himself. _“Oz. How certain of this information source_ are _you, exactly? How can we trust it?”_  
  
“Does ‘Project P.E.N.N.Y. mean anything to you, James?” The man’s wide-eyed countenance was all the answer Oz needed. “That was just one example. This source knew more secrets. _My_ secrets.” He sighed. “Secrets that I’ve kept for far too long. Secrets that I’ve grown too used to keeping, that have actively hurt our ability to fight Salem.”  
  
 _“Something tells me we’re about to hear quite the yarn,”_ Theodore said, adjusting himself in his seat. _“So. Secrets coming out. Where do you want to start?”_  
  
“I think it’s only right to start all the way at the beginning,” Oz said, gesturing for Glynda to get herself a seat. “Tell me: how well do you know the tale of the Girl in the Tower?”  
  


*** * * * ***

  
I opened the door to Team CFVN’s dorm room only to swiftly find my vision filled by black hair and cat ears as Blake pulled me into another tight hug.”  
  
“Well, someone missed me,” I muttered, though it was good-natured. Blake pulled away for a moment to give me a _look_ as her ear flicked in annoyance, then she gave me a swat on the shoulder before flouncing off to sit on my bed. I noticed that she was wearing new clothes, ones that she definitely had _not_ brought with her… and also that the capris were too long and her top a bit small. A glance at Coco and Velvet had both of them shrugging.  
  
“Hmph.” Blake crossed her arms and turned away with her eyes closed, one ear flicking in my direction. “If you’d taken any longer I’d have broken out the embarrassing childhood stories.”  
  
“Oh no,” I deadpanned as I walked in and closed the door behind me. “What ever shall I do about childhood stories that embarrass you as badly as they do me.” Blake blushed and looked away, but she still sidled up close when I sat down on the bed next to her. I heard a pair of small sounds from Coco and Velvet, and the two of them had soft smiles on their faces when I looked up. “She behave?”  
  
“Hey!” Blake said, her tone one of mock offense.  
  
“She was pumping us for details,” Fox said, an amused expression on his face. “Felt almost like a job interview, I swear.”  
  
“It wasn’t _that_ bad,” Velvet assured me with a smile. “She just missed you.”  
  
“Yeah, I bet.” I shook my head, and ruffled Blake’s hair lightly. She swatted at my hand, but she still giggled at it. “Hey, would you mind if we had a little privacy?” I asked. “Just for a bit, really.”  
  
“No problem,” Coco said. “Once you two are done though, we’re going out to Vale for dinner tonight, my treat. Any preferences?”  
  
“ _Seafood_ ,” Blake and I said at the same time. The two of us turned to each other and shared a smile, even while the other three laughed.  
  
“If I didn’t know you two were related before,” Coco said through her laughter. “Anyway, we’ll be at the bullhead landing. Don’t take too long, ya hear?”  
  
“We won’t!” I assured her. The three of them left the room and closed the door, but I held a hand up while I checked with Fox’s Semblance to make sure we didn’t have any eavesdroppers. I’ve grown to trust my team… but there’s trust, and then there’s full disclosure. And there’s some secrets that I don’t think they need to know just yet. “So what do you think?”  
  
“I…” Blake chewed on her lip for a moment. “I want to take the offer. Things with the Fang—with _Adam_ , they’ve been…” She looked away. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close, and she relaxed against my side. “After I… shot that person, Adam’s been getting worse. Hurting people more, training everybody harder, even to the point of injury. He—” Blake’s breath caught in her throat, and she suddenly looked so very afraid.  
  
“Hey,” I said, and ran my fingers through her hair, just like Mom used to back before Blake left. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”  
  
“Adam kept using me to, to encourage people to _kill_ ,” Blake said, and I could _hear_ the self-loathing in her voice. “He would say ‘if a _Belladonna_ can do it, so can you’. And people keep getting hurt, and it’s _my fault_.” She looked up at me, and I could see tears forming at the corner of her eyes. “Noah, I… I don’t want to be part of that anymore. I _can’t_!”  
  
“Hey, hey hey hey…” Blake turned to wrap her arms around me, and once again I could feel her tears wetting my shirt. “You don’t have to go back there. And if _he_ has a problem with it—”  
  
“H-he doesn’t g-get a say,” Blake said, her voice shaky from crying. “I, I called Sienna, s-she said she’d say I was o-on assignment for her. B-but what if he doesn’t care?” She shook in my arms. “W-what if he comes _looking_?”  
  
“You remember Qrow’s recommendation of going to Signal for now?” I asked, and I felt Blake’s nod against my chest. “Signal’s on an island off the coast, called Patch. Small town. Adam can’t find you, even if you just commute there, trust me.”  
  
“And what if he does anyway?”  
  
“Then you call for help,” I said. “You call me. You call Sienna. You call Tukson. And we make him wish he’d never come.” I pulled Blake away and gave her a smile. “Now come on, we gotta get ready to meet my team. Go fix your makeup while I change out of my Huntsman gear.”  
  
“I thought you preferred when I didn’t wear any?” Blake asked, dabbing at her eyes.  
  
“Yeah, well, I’m your big brother; if I had my way, you’d be wearing nothing but beige potato sacks, and I’d be getting annoyed when boys _still_ thought you looked good.” I shrugged, then rooted around my closet to pick out something approachable. “But if you want to wear makeup, and it makes you happy, then that’s your choice. I’m your brother, not your keeper.”  
  
I know I should’ve seen it coming, but I was still surprised when Blake grabbed me in another hug from behind.  
  
“I love you, Noah,” she said, voice half-muffled by my coat.  
  
“I love you too sis,” I told her. “Hey, after we’re back from town, how about a quick spar? Show me how much better you’ve gotten.”  
  
“Hope you’re ready to lose,” she said, a taunting tone to her voice that I hadn’t had the pleasure of hearing in _years_.  
  
“We’ll see,” I said, chuckling when she just harrumphed before going into the bathroom to fix her makeup. I could only shake my head at her behavior, and then frowned to myself once the bathroom door clicked shut.  
  
Four years away. Yes, we’d been in contact, but calling just isn’t the same as actually having my sister in the room with me. Looking at her now, and comparing her to the twelve-year-old Blake that left us to stay with Sienna and Adam, I could only feel a deep pang of regret. She’d grown up so much. She’d been happy. She’d been hurt.  
  
And I hadn’t been there for her. Not in all the ways I should have been. Not in all the ways I wanted to be. Right then, in that moment, I made myself a promise. She was never going to be hurt like she had been—like _Adam_ had hurt her, ever again.  
  
Not if I had anything to say about it.  
  


*** * * * ***

  
_“You just had to make things harder for me, didn’t you,”_ Sienna groused, though her tone was less antagonistic and more good-natured.  
  
“Hey, I didn’t make the decision for her,” I told Sienna. “Blake was offered a chance, and she took it. Not gonna apologize for getting her out of the Fang.” I paused for a moment, realizing what I’d just said. “And just for the record, I did _not_ attempt to influence her decision in any way.”  
  
 _“I know Noah,”_ she said. _“To be honest, after what Blake told me, and what I’ve heard from my people… I’m glad she got out when she did. Though Adam’s behavior in the aftermath has been… worrisome.”_  
  
“Anything Blake or I need to be worried about?” I asked, concerned.  
  
 _“Thankfully not, at least for the moment,”_ she said. _“Just a headache for me. I will handle him.”_  
  
“Understood. Keep me posted if there’s anything you need.”  
  
 _“Of course; if anything changes, you’ll be one of the first to know. We will speak more later, Noah.”_ And with that Sienna hung up, leaving me looking out at Beacon’s campus from the roof of our dormitory.  
  
A couple of weeks passed in fairly uneventful fashion. After the craziness that was our mission, I was more than glad that things were slowing back down, even if for just a little while. The ‘excitement’ with that mission was more than enough for the moment, thank you very much.  
  
Per Ozpin, Blake’s paperwork for admission to Signal for the rest of the academic year was in the final stages of processing, and she’d be starting this coming Monday. Ozpin had set her up in an apartment down in Vale proper, and she would be commuting to and from Patch via bullhead in the morning and ferry at night. Qrow swore up and down that he’d make sure either he or his friend would watch out for Blake, ensure she settled in well. I wasn’t so sure, given the man’s alcohol consumption… but hey: if I needed to, I could just tell Ozpin that the birdbrain was shirking his duties.  
  
Amazing what a little bit of pull with the Headmaster can do for you.  
  
As for us, most of our midterm exams had happened, with one exception that I both was and wasn’t looking forward to: Prof Goodwitch’s combat class. Looking forward to because I would maybe— _maybe_ —manage to pick up those few Semblances from our year that were still eluding me. _Not_ looking forward to it because I’d _heard things_ about Goodwitch’s midterms. They tended to be nasty, spicy curveballs, and it would be a pain to deal with.  
  
But right now didn’t matter. Midterms were done for the week, it was Friday, and—  
  
“Oi, Noah!” I turned to the door that led to the roof access stairwell, and saw Moira Redpath standing there, a cheerful grin on her face. “Was wondering who came up here!”  
  
“Eh,” I shrugged. “Hard to find privacy to make a personal call, and it’s not like I can just ask the rest of my team to leave the dorm for me. You know?”  
  
“That’s one way to use a Friday afternoon I guess,” she said, still grinning. “So what’s CFVN up to this weekend? Other than that spar tomorrow, obviously.” Moira held the door open for me as I walked over, and the two of us descended from the roof together.  
  
“Well, I know Coco’s been meaning to visit a Dust shop, though she hasn’t told us what for. Fox wants to get some new music, and I think Velvet wants to go see that new James Blonde movie?”  
  
“Didn’t mention yourself,” Moira pointed out. “Hey, why don’cha take Velvet to the movie?”  
  
“W-what?” I stopped, nearly tripping over my own feet when she suggested that.  
  
“C’mon, I know you’ve seen how she looks at ya!” Moira turned around to look at me, that ever-present grin still there on her face. “And the way you look at her, too!”  
  
“I, uh,” I said, grimacing at the… ehem, _eloquence_ of it. “That’s, well…”  
  
A hand landed on my shoulder, sparking with red lightning.  
  
“You get until next Friday to ask her out,” Moira ordered me, her grin turning positively _feral_ as she said it.  
  
“R-right, by next Friday, understood!” I agreed hurriedly. Moira’s smile went back to its usual friendliness; I, meanwhile, slumped in relief as the two of us kept walking through campus. Though as we walked, I realized that I had _no idea_ where on campus we were. “Hey Moira, where we headed?”  
  
“Hm? Ah… w-well.” She reached up to play with her ponytail, her usual smile turning a little… sad? “I kinda wanted to show ya something. Been a good friend the past couple months, so, yeah. Just round the corner here.”  
  
I followed Moira as she led, and around the corner, saw a large display on the wall. The display itself was positively covered in plaques, each one bearing text that, if I was right, corresponded to a name. At the center of the wall, just underneath Vale’s crossed axes and laurel wreath, was a trio of words.  
  
 _For The Fallen_.  
  
“Over here.” Moira waved me over to a specific place on the wall, a small section that had its own text at the top: _Remembering the Heroes of Mountain Glenn_. A placard bore information about the disastrous event, detailing what had happened, and the sacrifice of the brave Huntsmen and Huntresses who held the line for civilian evacuees. Moira pointed to a specific name, all the way at the top.  
  
 _Arthur Redpath_  
  
“Is that?...” I couldn’t finish the question, and Moira didn’t answer. She sat against the opposite wall, brought her knees up to her chest, and stared at the wall with that same sad smile I’d seen earlier.  
  
“Hey Dad,” she said. “Sorry I haven’t been by in a while, it’s just… been busy. We had our first missions already, which was awesome! We went to a small outpost just two miles outside of Vale, got to kill some Creeps that kept burrowing in under the town hall. Oh, and then Gavin and Lance tried to hit on some girl at the inn, and it turns out? She was the innkeeper’s daughter! Oh, he was so damn _pissed_ , and the two idiots just _ran_ ; I think they slept in a tent that night!” She laughed, but it was a weak thing, followed by a sniffle. “We just had midterms. Well, most of them, Goodwitch’s is on Monday, but yeah. I did… okay? I can’t tell what Port’s trying to teach us half the time, and only get one word in three from Oobleck, so that’s a bit of a wash. But I _aced_ Dust studies! So… yeah. We’ll see.” She looked over at me and waved me over from where I stood, well away from everything else.  
  
“You sure?” I whispered. I couldn’t help but feel like I was intruding on something I wasn’t supposed to see, but Moira just waved me over anyway, so I sat down next to her.  
  
“This is my friend Noah,” she said, eyes fixed back on her father’s plaque. “Met him ‘n his partner at the combat trials; I told ya Mom didn’t want me to come, so I snuck out and did that, right? Yeah… kinda wish I was on _his_ team. They get along damn well, must be nice. Tristan’s still trying to get me to play an instrument, and the less said about the two idiots the better… but still.” Moira got up from the ground and walked over to the wall, putting her hand as high up as she could towards where her father’s plaque lay. “I’ll make ya proud, Pops. I promise. Talk to ya again soon.”  
  
With that, Moira left the hallway, and I couldn’t help but follow. We made it back to the dorms, and she didn’t say anything more until we stood in front of BLGR’s room.  
  
“Thanks,” she said. “For coming with me for that.”  
  
“Thank you for sharing it with me,” I told her. “Moira… if there’s anything you wanna talk about, I’ll listen.”  
  
“... I’m good,” she said, opening the door to her dorm room. “Thanks though. You’re a good guy, Noah.” She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. I turned to leave, only for the door to open back up for a moment. “And remember, you have _until next Friday_ , got it!?”  
  
“Yes ma’am,” I deadpanned, waiting until the door closed again before inwardly panicking. Sound silly? Well, Moira is _absolutely terrifying_ when you get on her bad side. She even scared some of the _upperclassmen_ , who tended to just _leave_ if she went to claim her favorite spot in the library. There were only five people I’d seen that didn’t care when she was on the warpath, and those five were her partner, and Team IVHO. Then again, I hadn’t seen _anything_ actually faze those four, which in and of itself was a bit worrisome. Then again, people barely ever _saw_ them outside of class and mealtimes, so it wasn’t like we had much to go off of. It was a little worrying, actually: when people are that insular, it genuinely worries me, not to mention their team dynamics left a little something to be—  
  
The door to Team IVHO’s room slammed open hard enough to possibly damage the door, the doorframe, and the wall of their dorm room. Thea Hesiod stomped out of the room, her hair pulled up in a very messy bun, wearing traditional Mistrali garb, and slammed the door shut behind her. This time, it absolutely _did_ cause visible damage, as I heard the crack of splitting wood ring through the hall. Behind the door, I could _barely_ make out a pair of people laughing, followed by angry murmurs, and then the distinctive sound of flesh striking flesh.  
  
That… that was problematic.  
  
I called on Fox’s Semblance and peered in at the surface thoughts of the three young men inside, only to recoil at the sheer depths of _hate_ that shone at the top. A quick mental glance towards Thea showed a similar hate, but in her case, I could clearly differentiate that it was pointed at two people.  
  
I felt like there’s something I could be doing here, something to help. But I just didn’t know what it was at the moment. Besides, that wasn’t my team. Much as I wanted to help, I worried that trying to do something would just be seen as interfering where I’m not wanted, and cause things to backfire in _spectacular_ fashion. For the moment, I resolved myself to wait and see. If things between Team IVHO didn’t improve in the next few weeks, _then_ I’d consider doing something. But until then… it just wasn’t my place, I don’t think.  
  
Nor did I believe they’d even accept help. Those four were Mistralian aristocracy, and they’re probably the one set of humans we from Menagerie disdain _almost_ as much as the Atlesian elite, and not without reason, unfortunately.  
  
Besides. I had something else that I wanted to bring up with my team. And I owed Moira for making me think of it.  
  
“Hey Noah,” Coco said as I pushed the door to our room open. “Was wondering when you’d get back. Vel wants to go into town and catch that new movie—was it Spruce Willis or James Blonde?”  
  
“Blonde,” Velvet answered instantly. “Come on Coco, you should know this!”  
  
“... anyway, that,” Coco said, brushing off how bad she is with action movie stars, “and I figured we could all go and get some dinner beforehand, then see it as a group. You in? Oh, and Blake can join if she wants, obviously.”  
  
“Uh…” I couldn’t help but wave at Fox. “Movie?”  
  
“They have something special for ADA’s in there,” Fox said. “I turn on noise cancellation mode, tune my ADA to a specific frequency, and it’ll use sound profiles directly from the audio mix to give me an ‘image’. It’s pretty cool actually.”  
  
“That does sound pretty cool,” Velvet said, slipping a few pairs of earplugs into her purse. Right, it was probably really loud in there for Faunus with enhanced hearing, and if Blake was okay with joining us…  
  
“Yeah I’m in,” I said. “Also, before I ask Blake and we head out, there was something I wanted to ask everyone.” I sat down on my bed and faced the rest of them.  
  
“What is it?” Coco asked.  
  
“So, you know how we have half the semester left, and then a break between semesters?” The three of them nodded. “Well, I was thinking how it would probably be best to start planning things now, that way prices are cheaper if any of us wanted to go away. And that got me to wondering. So! Vel, Fox, Coco.  
  
“Over the break, would any of you like to come visit Menagerie?”  
  


*** * * * ***

  
It was a new beginning, Blake told herself. New people, new place, new environment entirely. Nobody here would know, or even _could_ know about her past. About her time in the White Fang, as a… as a _terrorist_. Admitting that last part had been the hardest part of moving on from it all. It meant acknowledging that the White Fang she’d been born into, the one she’d fought and strove so hard to help, was well and truly _dead_. Deep down, she wanted to believe that this was exclusively the Vale chapter, due to _Adam_ ’s leadership… but as much as she loved Sienna Khan, loved the woman who helped raise her, she couldn’t keep deluding herself. The current state of the White Fang was _nothing_ like what it had been under her father. That the Vale chapter even _could_ fall so far was just proof positive that this was the case. And it hurt. It hurt to know that she’d been part of that, that she’d been a party to it.  
  
It hurt and _sickened_ to know that even now, _Adam_ was likely using her to justify murder.  
  
Blake shook her head, hoping that the motion would drive those thoughts away. It was a remarkably dark place for her mind to go, especially given where she was: the administrative office at Signal Academy, waiting for the school’s headmaster to finish rubber-stamping her paperwork so that she could start. She had to admit that her file was probably a little on the odd side: only attending for a semester and a half, no transcripts to speak of, guardians that couldn’t be contacted…  
  
And yet all of the difficulties that would have posed fell to the wayside when _Headmaster Ozpin_ personally vouched for her. No transcripts? Not a problem. No guardian? Also not a problem. Clear combat experience, but no way to tell _where_ that experience came from? Well, that could be—wait no that’s _also_ not a problem. It boggled the mind _just how many doors_ being on Ozpin’s good side opened up.  
  
A small, traitorous part of Blake’s mind wondered if this was what it was like to be a _Schnee_ : people falling over themselves to help you because of a _name_.  
  
“Lien for your thoughts?”  
  
A familiar voice (and the accompanying scent of alcohol) broke Blake from her thoughts, and she looked up to see Qrow Branwen, drunken Huntsman extraordinaire and (horrifyingly enough, to her) adjunct teacher at Signal Academy. His right hand was busy putting that damn flask of his away; a quick whiff was all she needed to identify the whiskey on his breath. In his other hand, though?  
  
Blake took the rectangle of plastic and took a look at it, seeing her new student ID. It had some simple information: name, date of birth, student ID number. More importantly, though, was the picture. It had taken a bit of coaxing and cajoling from Noah, and another long Scroll call with Velvet, but she’d made her decision.  
  
The picture displayed her cat ears in all their glory. Unlike all the times she’d wander into civilian encampments while with the White Fang, Blake wore no ribbon over her ears. She was a Faunus, and she wanted to be proud of that. She wanted at least that.  
  
She’d had too little to be proud of in recent months, anyway.  
  
“Sorry,” Blake said, looking up at Qrow before standing from her seat. “Just… nerves, I guess.”  
  
“Been a while since you been to school, got it.” Blake whipped around to stare at Qrow. “Kid, it’s obvious. Besides, you’re not the only one in that kinda situation. I didn’t go to _any_ kinda school ‘til Beacon.”  
  
“But how—actually?” She paused. “Don’t tell me.”  
  
“Wasn’t gonna anyway,” he said. “Alright, come on. Probably the best time to get you introduced. Hope you’re ready to put on a show, though.” His eyes rested on where Gambol Shroud’s sheath poked over her shoulder. Not for long, though, because he turned and led her out of the office.  
  
Blake followed Qrow out of the building proper, and found herself being led towards an outdoor athletic complex. It looked remarkably similar to the one she’d seen at Fresnel just a couple weeks ago, though that didn’t surprise her that much. The difference here, though, was that where Fresnel’s were empty, Signal’s were currently in use.  
  
In the center of an arena stood two students, duking it out with fervor. One of them, a blonde girl with hair longer than Blake’s, was clearly a fist fighter; the gauntlets she wore on either arm had what looked like shotgun shells, and Blake shuddered to think of the sheer recoil those things had. Her opponent was a rather nondescript young man, wielding a pair of pistols with what looked like butcher’s knives for bayonets. He was clearly an agile fighter, but that meant little against the girl, who had him constantly on the back foot. She saw him fire from each of his weapons, but the blonde ducked low and dashed forward, swinging to plant a strong punch straight into his gut. Blake winced at the crack of her shotgun-gauntlets, and could only whistle in appreciation as the boy flew out of the arena and landed hard on his back.  
  
“And the winner is Yang Xiao Long!... again.” Blake heard a smattering of laughter and joking jeers from the assembled students, even as the blonde—Yang—walked to the edge of the arena and bowed to them.  
  
“Thank you, thank you, I aim to please!”  
  
Blake couldn’t help the slightly derisive sniff at what she was seeing. Showboating, _ugh_.  
  
“Hey, Tai!” Next to her, Qrow called out to the teacher, who told the rest of the class to stay put for a moment before jogging over to join them. “I take it you got the message.”  
  
“Kind of hard not to,” the teacher, ‘Tai’ or whatever, said. “I mean, I got it from you, _and_ Goodwitch, _and_ Ozpin. So this is her, huh?” He turned to look at Blake, who felt her respect for the man rising a notch or two when his eyes didn’t linger on her ears.  
  
“Yup,” Qrow said, stepping around Blake to stand between the two. “Blake, this is Taiyang Xiao Long, my best friend, old teammate from our Beacon days, and the combat training instructor here at Signal. Tai, this is Blake Belladonna. Good fighter, smart as a whip, but _no_ common sense.”  
  
“Hey!” Blake snapped, her ears folding down in annoyance.  
  
“Well what _else_ am I supposed to call it?” Qrow shook his head, before he leaned in closer to Mr. Xiao Long to whisper in his ear. “I think the closest thing is to call it a ‘reverse Raven’, if it’d been towards me.” Taiyang’s eyes narrowed before widening in understanding. A shadow passed over his face, but it was gone in an instant, dispelled by the brilliant smile that lit up the blonde’s face.  
  
“Well, hopefully we can beat a little of that common sense into her before Beacon, huh?” Taiyang joked as he stepped forward and offered a hand to Blake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Blake. Here in Signal call me Mr. Xiao Long, but if you see me outside of it, Tai is fine.”  
  
“It’s nice to meet you,” Blake said, accepting the handshake. She nodded over at the students, but especially at the blonde, Yang. “She your daughter?”  
  
“My eldest,” he said. “You’d think it’s hard not to play favorites, especially when I teach _both_ my kids, but considering both of them like a challenge?” He shook his head with a smile. “Anyway, come on over and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”  
  
“Okay?” Blake couldn’t help but feel that trepidation from earlier returning. It was silly, and she knew it, but she also knew it wasn’t a rational reaction. It just _was_. Even with how anxious she was, she still followed Mr. Xiao Long as he walked over to the students. As they got closer, she noticed something that had her heart sinking: she was the _only_ Faunus present. What if they were staunchly anti-Faunus? What if they looked at her and thought she was a freak because of her ears? Or thought that they made her less? Right about now, she started to regret not wearing the ribbon. It was a temporary measure, but at least she wouldn’t feel like she stood out so much.  
  
“Everyone, gather round, we’ve got a special occasion!” The students all turned towards the trio’s approach. The blonde girl though, Yang? Her eyes went wide, and she practically sprinted over to them.  
  
“Uncle Qrow!” In a blur of yellow, Yang rushed past her and Mr. Xiao Long to plow into Qrow, who had an arm wrapped around her waist in a combination of a hug and carry. “You’ve been gone _way_ too long, mister! Oh, Ruby’s gonna be _so_ excited you’re here!”  
  
“Nice to see ya too Firecracker,” he said. “Oh, uh, don’t tell your sister I’m here just yet. Let’s leave it as a _surprise_.”  
  
“Just don’t try baking cookies again, you _know_ what happened last time—”  
  
“Yang?” Mr. Xiao Long’s tone had a hint of admonishment, though the amusement was nearly enough to hide it entirely.  
  
“Woops, sorry Dad.” She detached herself from Qrow and turned towards Mr. Xiao Long, and her violet eyes landed on Blake in the process, then flicked to her ears for an instant before zeroing in on her face. “Oh hey, new person! I’m Yang!”  
  
“Blake,” she answered, rubbing one arm self-consciously.  
  
“So, bit of a special event!” Mr. Xiao Long stood behind her, and put one hand on her shoulder. “This young lady is Blake Belladonna. She’ll be joining us for the rest of the school year, so give her a warm welcome!”  
  
Blake heard a lot of half-hearted greetings, ranging from ‘welcome’, to ‘hello there’, to her personal favorite, ‘huh, that’s not a headband is it?’.  
  
“Bit lackluster there kids,” Mr. Xiao Long admonished. “Well, guess if you have so little energy, I’m just gonna have to cancel combat class for the rest of the day…” Now _that_ got a reaction out of them, complete with boo’s, jeers, and general malcontent. “Easy, easy, I was kidding! Alright, next up…”  
  
“Ah, don’t mind them, they’re just not good with new people!” Yang waved the class’s reactions off, slinging an arm around Blake’s shoulders. “Nice to meet another Faunus though, pretty sure Mr. Irwin—oh, he’s our Grimm Studies teacher, nearly forgot to mention that, _probably_ woulda been confusing if I was just talking about some random person, right? Anyway, he’s the only Faunus living on Patch, and a crocodile’s pretty far from a cat! Gotta ask though, what kind of cat?”  
  
“Panther,” Blake said, offering a non-answer of an answer even as she felt the first traces of a smile on her face. “You know, most people stop at ‘cat’.”  
  
“Well, Mr. Irwin’s pretty insistent that you don’t get domestic animal Faunus, and I don’t think any of us would _ever_ live it down if he found out! So, what brings you all the way to Patch?”  
  
“Well, the little lady did a real good thing,” Qrow interjected. Blake felt Yang’s arm fall off her shoulder as she jumped, and she could only laugh as the blonde turned to glare at Qrow, hands planted on her hips. “Got lucky enough to do that good thing for the right person, so she’s here until she’s old enough for Beacon in a year.”  
  
“Wh— _seriously_?” Yang looked from Qrow to her, then back to Qrow, then back to her. “How!?”  
  
“Well, I could tell you,” Qrow said. Then he smirked. “Bye.” With that, he turned around and started walking away, laughing all the while.  
  
“Wha—bu—you— _argh_!” Blake stiffened and her ears went flat as Yang rounded on her, placing her hands on Blake’s shoulders, and Blake found her golden eyes locked with Yang’s violet. For a moment, at least.  
  
Then Blake switched herself with a clone, and Yang barely managed to catch herself before stumbling to the ground.  
  
“What’s the matter?” Blake asked, feeling a _very_ small smirk cross her face. “Cat got your tongue?”  
  
“Oh, you gotta be _kitten_ me,” Yang said, straightening up with a wide smile. “That was _purr_ fect.”  
  
“... what have I done?” Blake asked, ears folding down in dawning horror.  
  
“Well if you didn’t want me to _litter_ the conversation with puns, you should’ve tried to _catnip_ this in the bud! Hm, though I guess that might not have been _paw_ ssible, really. Anyway, come on new bestie! Let’s see if we can’t get you into the ring, show us your claws!”  
  
“I regret everything,” Blake deadpanned, even as Yang dragged her over to the rest of the class. Though deep down, a small part of her had to admit: she was glad to finally make a friend of her own outside of the White Fang.  
  
She’d almost forgotten what that felt like.


	11. Chapter 11

    

“Good afternoon, class.” Professor Goodwitch stood before us, her standard severe expression on her face. The atmosphere in the amphitheater, however, was tense as can be. The arena, which usually had a radius of about thirty feet, was double its usual size. The bleachers had been pushed further back, and the seats themselves sat an additional twenty feet higher up and out of the way than usual. Most importantly, however, was that Professor Goodwitch wasn’t alone.  
  
Ozpin himself had graced us with his presence.  
  
“Today, you will have your Combat midterms. More than any other evaluation you undergo here at Beacon, this will determine where you stand in relation to your peers. In order to properly gauge your abilities, however, the rules that you have become accustomed to during these past two months will be undergoing a few modifications.”  
  
“Firstly.” Ozpin spoke up now, taking over for Goodwitch. “There are no ring-outs here today. In many a true battle out in the field, whether it be against a Grimm, an Aura-using criminal, or a renegade Huntsman, you will not have the luxury of retreat, or of a clear bright-line location that signals your victory. If you are thrown from the arena, that means your opponent has the high ground. If your weapon leaves the arena boundary, you are free to try and reclaim it—though your opponent is under no obligations to simply _let_ you.”  
  
“Additionally,” Glynda took back over, “specifically relating to your weapons. There is a reason we will not be having any combat classes this week _or_ the next, and that is because today, destroying your opponent’s weapon is fair game.” There was a sharp hiss of breath from up in the rafters, along with what sounded like the beginnings of hysterical cackling from two separate sources, both of them female: Moira and Thea. “If your weapon is damaged or destroyed, you are not immediately out. Keep fighting. Beacon will spare no expense to help repair or replace your weapons should they come to harm.”  
  
“Continuing on,” Ozpin again, “there is only _one_ victory condition today: your opponent is _fully incapacitated_. Either their Aura breaks, they are trapped with no chance of escape, or they are knocked unconscious. Glynda and I will be keeping a careful eye on proceedings, and the moment a combatant has been incapacitated, we _will_ stop the bout. You may not forfeit. If you have your opponent in such a condition that they have even the _slightest_ chance to continue, you _must_ finish the job; you cannot, for example, freeze your foe in place using ice Dust and walk away, so long as they remain conscious.”  
  
“Lastly, there is one caveat I must inform you of, and this is directed at _specific students_ more than anyone else.” I saw Glynda’s eyes focus on myself and Velvet, then roam over to a few others. “This is an _assessment_. And we cannot properly assess any of you if you continue to _hold back_. To that end: keep in mind that the Headmaster and I both know _exactly_ what you all are capable of. If either of us see a situation wherein you _could_ have used your weapon, equipment, or Semblance to overcome the obstacle you face, you chose _not_ to, and neither of us believe that the decision held strategic merit, you will be given a _zero_.”  
  
… oh, _hell_. I shared a glance with Velvet, and both of us realized what this meant. Of all the people in our year, the two of us probably held back the _most_ in our combat classes: Velvet still pretty much exclusively used Aperture as opposed to breaking out Anesidora, while the only copied Semblances I routinely used were Blake’s, Coco’s (which could be explained away with special ammunition), Fox’s (which couldn’t be _seen_ ), and Sienna’s (which _also_ couldn’t be seen with what I was wearing… made me glad I wore a jacket). It would seem the cat was going to be well and truly out of the bag, now.  
  
… _ugh_ , unintentional pun.  
  
“As for you opponents.” Ozpin looked at us with an oddly eerie smile. “It only seems fitting that you face the one person in this room most likely to know you and your fighting style best, is it not? Today, you shall face your opposite number. Partner against partner.” Hey, remember that cackling from Moira and Thea I mentioned earlier?  
  
Yeah… it was even _louder_ now.  
  
“First up: Coco Adel and Fox Alistair of Team CFVN,” Professor Goodwitch announced. On Velvet’s other side, Coco’s eyes lit up, while Fox tensed.  
  
 _“Well damn,”_ Fox said to the three of us. _“Coco? No aiming for the face.”  
  
“Aww, but that would’ve been fun!”_ Coco mock pouted, crossing her arms as the two stood. _“Wish me luck, you two!”  
  
“Good luck,”_ I said. _“Good luck_ Fox _, that is.”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“Thanks,”_ Fox said. _“I’m going to need it.”_ A moment later, the feeling of somebody watching me that signified Fox’s Semblance faded, and the two of them left to head down.  
  
“Hmm… Noah?” Velvet piped up as Fox and Coco descended towards the arena below.  
  
“Yes, Velvet?” I asked my partner.  
  
“How about we… maybe… I don’t know, make a little wager?” I turned towards my partner and raised an eyebrow. She folded one ear down to match, looking at me with an expectant smile.  
  
“Hmm… I’ll bite. What’re you suggesting?”  
  
“Oh, nothing much,” she said, her tone just a little too innocent. “How about we put a favor on the line?”  
  
A… favor?  
  
That… that was convenient. Very, very convenient. Also surprising as heck, I did _not_ expect Velvet to come up with this _at all_. It sounded more like something that _Coco_ would… aah. Maybe that’s where she got the idea.  
  
Either way. This would make it easy to ask her on a date… assuming I don’t trip over my words after I win.  
  
“Nothing illegal, immoral, or cost-prohibitive,” I replied, setting my terms.  
  
“Deal,” she said, and we shook on it. “Hope you don’t regret it when I win!~”  
  
“Oh, you cheeky little bunny,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her. Velvet favored me with a sly little smile, though she turned towards the arena a moment later.  
  
“Combatants, prepare yourselves,” Professor Goodwitch announced.  
  
On our left, I saw Coco bring out Gianduja, the minigun’s barrels already spinning as it warmed up to fire. Opposite her, on the right, Fox held himself low to the ground, similarly to how a runner would situate himself at the starting line. One arm was forward, wrist angled so that one of Sharp Retribution’s barrels pointed directly at Coco, while the weapon’s other blade propped him up off the ground.  
  
“On my mark... _begin_.”  
  
Fox fired the first shots, one at Coco as he darted forward, and two more behind him as he used the recoil to speed himself up. Coco eyed him over the top of her sunglasses, and she brought Gianduja in front of her to deflect Fox’s bullet even as the rotation of her weapon’s barrels… _slowed_?  
  
The distance between the two closed in an instant and Fox was upon her, lashing out with an elbow strike augmented by the tonfa’s blade. Coco ducked underneath his attack and swung Gianduja, using the weapon’s barrels as a bludgeon to force Fox away. He dodged with the blow, softening the hit so much that I wouldn’t have noticed the blip in his Aura if I hadn’t been watching for it, and raised both weapons to fire at Coco as he strafed her, peppering her with bullets as he came in for another attack run. Coco blocked with Gianduja again, but as Fox went in for his next offensive, she changed tacks. Gianduja folded in on itself and became a purse once more, and Coco looped the purse’s strap around her right wrist before grasping it in her fist.  
  
Then she swung Gianduja like a mace, straight at Fox’s left arm, which had been coming across for a blow. She struck the outside of his elbow, and the sheer _weight_ and momentum of Gianduja threw him completely off-balance. Coco finished her follow through with a spin and swung Gianduja overhead, bringing the heavy bag down onto Fox’s back. The blow forced him to the floor and his Aura flared as the hit took a chunk out of it. Coco brought her arms back into a posture reminiscent of a golf swing, clearly planning to follow up with another hit of the compacted Gianduja, but that was when Fox launched his counterattack.  
  
And it was at that same moment that I felt a tug in my gut, one that I could feel coming _directly_ from Fox.  
  
I heard Coco cry out, whether in shock or pain, and she staggered back from Fox. He wasted no time pushing himself up and was upon her in an instant, connecting with a powerful left jab at Coco’s solar plexus, augmented by fire from his weapon. Even as he knocked the wind out of her, he comboed it into a vicious right hook and a bullet to Coco’s temple, which snapped her head to the side in a way that had me wincing, before he finished off with a left roundhouse kick that threw her to the ground. She skidded away from Fox, who took the brief reprieve to drop the magazines from his weapons and reload both of them, though this gave Coco the opportunity to pull herself up, and a quick glance at the viewscreen told me that Fox’s Aura held steady at 71% while Coco was all the way down to 39%. She staggered upright, blinking as she raised a finger to the bridge of her nose to push her sunglasses up—only to find that they weren’t there. All of us looked to where the remains of her precious aviators lay, shattered into pieces by the bullet Fox had fired alongside his right hook.  
  
In that instant, Coco’s expression went still in a way I’d never seen it before. She held Gianduja’s strap in a loose grip, letting the purse _rest on the ground_ , and did little more than shift her stance as Fox approached for another rushdown.  
  
That was when Coco lashed out with her left hand, something on her wrist glimmered, I felt _another_ tug from my Semblance (in Coco’s direction this time), and a _massive_ wave of ice sprung up from what could only have been Dust crystals embedded in the bangles she wore.  
  
“So that’s what she visited the Dust shop for,” I said, even as Velvet whistled in appreciation. The results of her handiwork were impressive to see: ice trapped Fox up to his sternum, and though his arms were free, he had very little room to build up the force, angle, or leverage to free himself from the ice. Instead, he fired down at the ice with one hand while gesturing with the other, and Coco staggered back again, one hand held up to her head in pain.  
  
Then she grit her teeth, unfolded Gianduja, and _opened fire_.  
  
Against a sitting duck like Fox was, she chewed through his Aura in two measly seconds. The _instant_ Fox’s Aura broke, a violet glow surrounded Gianduja and ripped the gun from her hands before gently laying it on the ground. Ozpin, meanwhile, walked over to Fox and shattered the ice around him with a single well-placed tap of his cane.  
  
“Winner, Coco Adel,” Professor Goodwitch announced. “In the future, Miss Adel, perhaps _don’t_ wear expensive sunglasses if you are going to react so harshly to seeing them damaged in the _normal course of combat_.”  
  
Coco gave no answer. Instead, she reached into a pocket, pulled out a glasses case… and removed _another pair of aviators_ , which she slid on with a blank expression that _dared_ Glynda to say anything.  
  
“Get your partner and head to the infirmary,” Professor Goodwitch said, pointedly ignoring Coco’s nonverbal sass. “The next match will begin shortly. Don’t worry about trying to be back in time to catch it; all of these are being recorded and will be available for review.”  
  
“M-m-maybe a h-hot shower a-a-after,” Fox said as Ozpin brought him over to Coco, who took him and slung his arm over her shoulder. The two of them left the combat amphitheater, and Professor Goodwitch prepared to announce the next two.  
  
“Next up,” she said, and Velvet and I both prepared to rise. “Yatsuhashi Daichi versus Turquoise Undine.” The two of us froze before we shared a confused look, then glanced over to the professors. Ozpin just looked at the two of us with an enigmatic smile and a knowing look in his eyes. He was _up to something_ , I could just tell.  
  
“Well, um…” Velvet trailed off, ears twitching in the corner of my vision as she tried to think of something to say next. “O-oh, who do you think will win?”  
  
“It really depends on what Turquoise’s Semblance is,” I answered, eyeing the girl as she popped a water Dust crystal out of the socket on her right sword’s pommel and swapped in what looked to me like a lightning crystal. “There has to be a reason she doesn’t use her Semblance during team spars, or even normal one-on-ones. Maybe it’s inconvenient to use?”  
  
“Maybe it has something to do with the lightning Dust she just readied?” Velvet proposed, and I couldn’t help but find myself agreeing. Turquoise’s two swords now had a pairing of wind and lightning, as opposed to the wind and water I’d seen her favor before.  
  
“That, or the wind and water combo is a countermeasure against bullets,” I pointed out. “Yatsu just has a slab of metal that he ground an edge onto and called a sword. Seriously, how does he even _lift_ that thing?”  
  
“Combatants ready?” Glynda called out. Yatsu held his massive blade in one hand, the flat resting on his shoulder. Opposite him, our fellow Faunus rolled her wrists, twirling her two swords as she did. “On my mark. _Begin_.”  
  
Yatsuhashi _pushed_ off, the floor of the arena cratering underneath him as he did. He was upon Turquoise in an instant, his blade swinging down at a diagonal at his partner’s position. She threw herself low and forward, ducking down into a small space beneath Yatsuhashi’s sword arm, and I felt a pulling in my gut as she turned around and slashed at the air with her blade.  
  
The air around Yatsuhashi seemed to ripple, and a moment later, a sphere of distortion became apparent. It was a lot like looking into crystal clear water, and as I watched Yatsuhashi struggle to move inside of the distortion… I may not have been entirely wrong. Yatsu was quite literally _swimming through the air_ , working to push his way out of the distorted space, but trying to maneuver with his sword meant he was now upside down, in midair, and swimming towards the floor.  
  
Turquoise brandished her sword and the lightning Dust crystal in the pommel flashed. An instant later, the distortion in the air sparked, and Yatsuhashi gave a muffled scream of pain as the air conducted electricity like water, and I could see bubbles of less-dense air rising through the distortion as he screamed. He shook and shuddered as the electricity ran over him, but Turquoise kept her assault up until a purple glow enveloped both her and Yatsuhashi and pulled the two of them away from each other.  
  
“Winner, Turquoise Undine,” Professor Goodwitch announced. “I can see why you do not use that in spars; he could not breathe in there, could he?”  
  
Turquoise shook her head, then gestured down at herself.  
  
“But I can.”  
  
“I see. Sylvia Evergreen and Calliope Indigo, please come down while I help Mr. Daichi to the infirmary.” A purple glow surrounded Yatsuhashi as Professor Goodwitch levitated him, and Turquoise followed, her expression one of chagrin and regret. I had a feeling she didn’t like using her Semblance on people; the way she’d taken Yatsu down had been a lot more brutal than expected, and probably rather scary for the towering young man too.  
  
“Not one to use against people, that,” I murmured to Velvet.  
  
“Would work well against most Grimm though,” she said. “What about this match?”  
  
“I don’t think we know enough about Calliope’s style. Plus, the only wood for Sylvia’s Semblance is her crossbow bolts or Calliope’s weapon, and if she’s close enough to use that, I think Calliope’s already lost.”  
  
“I’m not so sure,” Velvet said. “Sylvia… she’s _not good_ up close.”  
  
“So a little like Coco two months ago?”  
  
“A little like Coco two months ago,” Velvet agreed. We passed a minute or two in amiable silence before Glynda returned.  
  
Moments later, the match was underway.  
  
And barely thirty seconds later, it was over. Sylvia fired off each of the bolts in her repeater crossbow on the approach, while Calliope hunkered down behind her viola/shield, leaving the neck/sword attached. Once Sylvia’s repeater crossbow ran out and she had to reload, Calliope pulled out a violin bow. And as she began to play, I felt a tug in my gut.  
  
Sylvia blinked once, then her eyes drooped. An instant later she was on the ground, snoring away.  
  
“Winner, Calliope Indigo,” Professor Goodwitch said. “And remind me to call you the next time Dr. Oobleck _forgets_ that he’s not allowed to use the faculty lounge coffee pot…”  
  
Ozpin slurped at a thermos cup filled with hot cocoa. I looked over at him, and he gave a conspiratorial wink.  
  
Yes. ‘Forgets’. Clearly.  
  


*** * * * ***

  
The other fights continued apace, though unfortunately none of them were all that _interesting_ (aside from Coco and Fox offering a bit of telepathic heckling once they got back from the infirmary). With regards to Team BLGR, while they clearly operate well as a unit, Gavin’s and Tristan’s shortcomings as fighters are _immediately_ apparent when they don’t have teammates covering for them. Moira’s Semblance let her dance in and out of Tristan’s ‘dead zone’ with ridiculous ease; even when he separated his bow Failnaught into two swords, as his two swords just didn’t have the reach compared to Moira’s bastard sword Caledfwich, nor could he even come close to matching her speed. With a proper frontline Tristan would be an absolute beast to behold, but without that? He was squishy, oh so squishy.  
  
Lance, on the other hand, had finally figured out how to _position_ with his Semblance. He used it to pull Gavin away from the patch of bright sunlight streaming in through the skylight, and any time Gavin tried to control the pace of the battle to get back into the sun, Lance backed off and used his Semblance to drag Gavin with him. It was a knock-down, drag-out slugfest, but eventually Lance emerged on top.  
  
The most boring of the fights was Virgil versus Homer. Virgil’s usual strategy of sending the wood from his spear through the ground just _did not work_ against Homer, because the other Mistralian’s Semblance gave him a measure of omnidirectional awareness; I know, I tried it, got vertigo, and vomited. Not a fun day. Either way this was, once again, a rather one-sided affair. I could see how the two would work _together_ very well, with Homer using his Semblance to work perfectly around how Virgil was using his… but the same ability that made Homer the perfect _partner_ also made him a very good _hard counter_.  
  
Most interesting was Thea versus Ovid, primarily because _I finally got Ovid’s Semblance_! Thea showed up to this fight armed to the teeth, with the addition of bladed claws and a pair of short swords at her side in addition to her usual flails. And once she started really _blitzing_ Ovid, it made sense why: he sunk one of her flails _into the stone_ , fused the links of the other one into a very brittle rod of metal, and made one of her swords split apart like a banana peel. Thea managed to break Ovid’s weapon back, but that was also when he sunk Thea’s flail into the stone, which gave him more than enough time to retrieve the other half of his broken weapon and _merge them back together_. I’m not sure what the limitations of his Semblance are… but from what I could see, it had a _lot_ of utility.  
  
Eventually though, everyone else had gone… and then there were two.  
  
“Last, but not least,” Professor Goodwitch began, turning towards where Velvet and I sat. “Velvet Scarlatina and Noah Belladonna.”  
  
“Well it’s about time,” I groused as I stood up from my seat, grabbing Fang and Claw from where I’d set them down under the seat. “My ass was going _numb_ in that damn chair.”  
  
“You sure you wouldn’t rather sit back down?” Velvet asked sweetly, pure innocence behind those eyes. “You know I won’t be going easy on you anymore!~”  
  
I couldn’t help but scoff at that, which prompted a light laugh from Velvet. With that, the two of us descended from the amphitheatre’s seating, and took our places opposite each other: Velvet kept the wall to her right, while I kept the seats to mine. I’d seenVelvet retrieve Anesidora from its spot at the small of her back while we were walking down though, and wondered what she was doing as she loaded multiple Dust vials into it, beyond simply its usual hard light Dust. I identified fire, lightning, and _gravity_ dust in there, which made me wonder just how _exactly_ her weapon worked.  
  
“Are the combatants ready?” Glynda asked. In response, I pulled Fang and Claw off of my back, and held Fang behind me with its tip resting on the floor, while I kept Claw raised loosely in front of me. Opposite me, Velvet moved into an exact copy of my stance, and the lines on Anesidora glowed light blue. A moment later, wireframe copies of Fang and Claw appeared in her hands.  
  
“Holy _shit_!” somebody yelled from the peanut gallery. I’m not sure who it was, and quite frankly, I don’t have the energy to care. Instead, I focused on where Velvet stood opposite me. Unlike my own weapons, her copies of Fang and Claw didn’t have to worry about silly things like keeping track of ammunition, or having weight that could tire the muscles. At the same time, though, while her copies were probably _sharper_ than my own, given their composition, she wouldn’t be able to put as much force behind it without having any—wait.  
  
There. It was faint, but I saw a small bit of purple flickering through the projected copies of my weapons. That was why she had slotted some gravity Dust into Anesidora, I realized: she was using it to artificially provide the wireframe copies with weight, which put momentum behind her blows.  
  
Shit. This was going to be a tough fight.  
  
“On your marks.”  
  
The two of us tensed. I pressed Fang’s tip deeper into the stone beneath me, even as Velvet’s trigger finger tightened on her copy. The confusion in her eyes as she read my movements was enough to know that I had the element of surprise, and I reached with my Semblance for the only thing of value that the raging bull had left to offer.  
  
[“Begin.”](https://youtu.be/6Cd8uqu2neE)  
  
Velvet pulled the trigger on not-Fang, the blast angled to send her into a spin to build up momentum as she swung the same gunblade. At the same time, I raked Fang across the stone, carving a furrow into the arena as the blade began to glow with an unearthly light. Velvet closed, and I parried her airborne blow with Claw, then stepped forward and brought Fang up in an underhand swing.  
  
Moonslice sprung from the blade, a silver crescent flying from Fang and carving through Velvet’s wireframe replica of Claw, the residual force sending her flying back a few feet. Not-Claw dissipated into motes of light, and I brought the _real_ Claw around in a horizontal swing, firing off the stored Moonslice in Velvet’s direction. She rolled to the side and let her copy of Claw fade into nothingness, only for Anesidora to begin projecting the copy of another weapon into her hands.  
  
Well. Can’t let that happen, now can we?  
  
I took a step and brought Moira’s Semblance to the fore. Crimson lightning burst to life across me as I rushed forward, faster than Velvet could react—  
  
Or so I thought. My dash brought me crashing straight into Velvet’s extended fist. She’d braced her entire body to absorb the force of the blow, which still sent her skidding back a few inches. I, on the other hand, felt like I’d just taken a sledgehammer to the solar plexus, and the visible flare of my Aura was more than enough to tell me that taking any more of those hits was a _bad idea_. A quick glance up at the scoreboard showed that I’d managed to somehow chunk a full _fifth_ of my own Aura with that screw-up. And I only had myself to blame, too; Velvet knew _exactly_ how I fought, and the posture I’d used for my dash forward was similar to how I angled myself when using Fang’s or Claw’s recoil to boost myself.  
  
She’d known exactly what I was going to do, even before I did.  
  
I looked past Velvet and saw the sun from the skylight coming in behind her. She followed my eyes and her own widened, realizing what I was planning. She didn’t even wait for Anesidora to finish projecting a new weapon before she rushed me, but this time, I was ready. I grabbed her with Professor Goodwitch’s Semblance, using Claw the same way Goodwitch does her riding crop to help me focus, and tossed Velvet out of the arena and towards the seating area, then sprinted into the sunlight and activated Gavin’s Semblance. I could _feel_ the sun restoring me, but I couldn’t let myself get distracted; I needed to keep an eye on Velvet and be ready for whatever she did next—!  
  
A hard light copy of Moira’s Caledfwich flew through the air, and Velvet knew me too damn well because I ended up dodging _into_ the path of the blade. The only thing that saved me was Gavin’s Semblance and the patch of bright sunlight I stood in, but I had to abandon both of those when the wireframe glove on Velvet’s hand glowed deep purple, and the copy of Caledfwich rocketed past my dodge and back into Velvet’s outstretched hand. The twin prongs extending upwards from the pommel flared out, wind and fire Dust mixing, and with a mighty swing Velvet sent a curtain of flame in my direction. I couldn’t help but close my eyes in the face of the heat, and called up Fox’s Semblance to track Velvet without my eyes, which let me barely raise Fang and Claw in time to catch her not-Caledfwich in a rough parry. It was a hasty thing though, and Velvet broke my guard, costing me position and another chunk of Aura in exchange. I growled, and used my Semblance to make my copy of Fox’s do _whatever it was_ that he did to Coco.  
  
I was treated to the odd sensation of a _spike_ of telepathic force darting from my mind to Velvet’s, and watched as the spike careened into her thoughts and scrambled her senses. Velvet staggered, the wireframe replica of Calefwich disappearing as she stumbled under the psychic assault. I kept it up as I sheathed Fang and put it on my back, then retracted the blade back into Claw and set it to full-auto.  
  
Then I grabbed Coco’s Semblance, aimed with both hands, and fired.  
  
Four of my shots landed against her shimmering Aura before Velvet’s reflexes kicked in and she rolled out of the way. Velvet was still woozy from the mind spike though (and yes Fox, I am naming it, you didn’t bother to give it one yet), so I took the opportunity to reload Claw, then rushed her using Fang’s recoil, bringing my twin blades around to carve away more of her Aura.  
  
Only to find them blocked by a wireframe copy of Yatsuhashi’s sword, Fulcrum, which she’d projected while I _wasted time reloading_.  
  
I hadn’t been expecting to be brought up short, nor was I prepared for the equal and opposite reaction that hitting the hard light rendition of a giant slab of steel would cause. I staggered back, off-balance, and Velvet took full advantage of the opening. She spun Fulcrum like it weighed nothing—because until the gravity Dust took hold, it _did_ weigh nothing—and I wasn’t able to do much more than let myself go limp as the not-sword struck me in the side, sending me careening off to the entire other edge of the arena with another perilously large chunk of my Aura missing. What’s worse, I lost my grip on Claw during the exchange, which meant that unless I got enough breathing room to use Professor Goodwitch’s Semblance, I was down to one weapon.  
  
I pulled myself to my feet and risked a glance at the scoreboard—Velvet was down to 40% Aura, mostly from those shots I’d landed on her earlier that had been boosted by Coco’s Semblance, while my own wasn’t far above hers at 48%. Given that I had to burn Aura to use my Semblance, and she barely had to do so to use Anesidora, our effective _spare_ Aura put her ahead of me, if only barely.  
  
The familiar whine of a minigun spinning up to fire pulled me out of my thoughts, and in a flash of insight I called on one of the three new Semblances in my arsenal. The air in front of me rippled and distorted as Turquoise Undine’s Semblance bloomed to life, giving the air the physical properties of water. The hard light bullets from Velvet’s inexhaustible copy of Gianduja slammed into the bubble, but they had to pass through twenty feet of what was essentially water to get to me. If the light refraction hadn’t been enough, then the difference in the medium’s density was more than enough. None of the bullets made it through, so I collapsed the bubble of liquid air and—  
  
Velvet wasn’t in front of me.  
  
A quick scan with Fox’s Semblance had me looking up. Velvet reached the apex of her arc above me, holding a wireframe replica of Failnaught with two hard light arrows nocked, their tips aglow with Dust. Fire and wind.  
  
Oh, _shit_.  
  
Velvet released the bowstring with a wink. The arrows slammed into the ground in front of me, and the resulting explosion sent me flying and ripped Fang free of my grasp. I don’t know what my hang time was, but when I landed it was with a painful, haphazard roll. I managed to get my feet under me and pushed myself up, but I’d just tanked an explosion to the face, my Aura _had_ to be running low. A glance at the scoreboard showed me that I was down to 15%, while the shockwave and Aura used on the Dust had only dropped hers to 35%.  
  
I looked around and saw that both Fang and Claw were a fair distance away from me, in opposite directions. If I tried to use Goodwitch’s Semblance to grab one of them, that was time given over to Velvet for another offensive, and if she broke my concentration then that would just send my weapon flying even further away.  
  
“Hope you’re ready to owe me that favor!”  
  
Speaking of Velvet, she was hopping lightly on her feet, wireframe replicas of Sharp Retribution adorning either hand as she assumed a slightly modified version of Fox’s ready stance.  
  
“Don’t count me out just yet,” I said. With a flex of my fingers I extended my claws, and with a flex of my Semblance, I decided that yes… I _could_ hold a Grudge.  
  
Unseen to the world, tiger stripes flared on my arms and back as Sienna Khan’s Semblance came to life, the markings appearing in identical patterns to her tattoos. This is actually _why_ she had those tattoos: it hid when she used her Semblance, and made her a more dangerous fighter. As they appeared, hidden beneath my jacket, I could _feel_ myself growing stronger, faster. I brought my claws to bear and rushed in, hoping the sudden speed boost would be enough to throw Velvet off.  
  
It was.  
  
I raked my claws across her body, feeling them gouge her Aura beneath them, and lashed out with a low kick to her hamstring. I put more force into it than I’d been expecting, and the kick knocked Velvet back, out of reach of any follow-up. I snarled and chased, but by that time she’d recovered—and worse, she’d gotten a sense for my movements. My claws caught on the wireframe edge of her faux-Sharp Retribution, and I wasn’t able to duck away in time before the hard light bullet struck me in the arm. I went for a quick jab-cross-hook combo, but Velvet knocked my arms away and slammed both fists into my chest while I was off-balance, staggering me.  
  
An instant later, wireframe copies of Fang and Claw carved through what was left of my Aura, and I fell to my knees, the purple barrier shattering into motes of light as my energy faded.  
  
“Guess… I owe you a favor then… huh?” I said, panting hard as the exertion caught up to me, my depleted Aura no longer holding it at bay.  
  
“Winner, Velvet Scarlatina,” Professor Goodwitch announced. A quick glance at the rest of our year showed _dead silence_ , and more than a few shocked expressions. I saw Moira holding on tightly to some or other musical accoutrement that Tristan had in handI also saw Fox grumbling as he slapped a Lien card into Coco’s outstretched hand. Sorry Fox, I thought to myself. Guess I let your wallet down.  
  
Velvet walked up to me and offered me a hand up, which I gladly accepted.  
  
“That you do!” Velvet said. “And actually, Noah? I already have your favor picked out.”  
  
“Wha—”  
  
I didn’t get a chance to finish. Velvet grabbed my head, pulled me down… and kissed me. I could _swear_ I heard the sound of a record scratch (for which I will blame Tristan and his love of overly appropriate music and sound effects)...  
  
… but all I could think at the time?  
  
 _Wow. Her lips are soft…_  
  
Velvet pulled back a moment later, a sly smile on those same lips, her ears half bent and tickling at my cheeks.  
  
“That was me asking you on a date,” she told me. “Your favor is saying ‘yes’.” Then she leaned back in, gave me another peck on the lips, and let me go.  
  
With her piece said, Velvet sashayed out of the amphitheater, her hips swaying in a way that she _definitely_ learned from Coco. I couldn’t help but stare until she left my view, and my hand rose to my lips unbidden, the phantom sensation of the unexpected kiss lingering.  
  
Up in the stands, Moira was busy laughing herself sick, and I’m pretty sure I caught _another_ exchange of Lien out of the corner of my eye, this time going from Coco _back_ to Fox, who turned my way and offered me a thumbs-up.  
  
None of those thoughts lingered in my mind, however, because my eyes were still trained on where Velvet had been. Even as Professor Goodwitch pressed Fang and Claw back into my hands, and I absentmindedly adhered them to my back, I still stared dead ahead at where Velvet disappeared at the end of the hall.  
  
A hand came to rest on my shoulder, and I looked to see that Ozpin had come up next to me, a bemused expression on his face.  
  
“Not the first time this has happened in Beacon’s halls,” he said. “I doubt it will be the last. Still, do try to enjoy yourself. And if you need any recommendations on places to go, or help getting in the door... do let me know.”  
  
With that, Ozpin left. A moment later, Coco and Fox made their way down from the stands, and Fox slung an arm around my shoulder while Coco went off in search of Velvet.  
  
“Didn’t think the bun had it in her,” Fox said. “Definitely didn’t see _that_ coming.” I had zero regrets over smacking Fox upside the head.  
  
Or I would have, anyway, if Moira hadn’t beaten me to the punch. Literally. _Again_.


	12. Chapter 12

“We’re in for a good day today!”  
  
Blake looked to the seat next to her to find Yang Xiao Long sitting next to her, an expectant grin on the blonde’s face as she practically bounced in her seat. On her other side sat a shorter, younger girl with black-red hair and silver eyes, wearing a red hooded cloak—Ruby, Yang’s sister. She’d met the girl two days ago, just an hour after Qrow had introduced her to Yang and Mr. Xiao Long. It had also taken all of… oh, five minutes for Ruby to ask about touching her ears.  
  
Much to the younger girl’s dismay, Blake had declined rather vehemently. Though after Blake stopped to explain _why_ what she’d asked to do was rather impolite, Ruby began apologizing for the social faux pas, to the point that Blake started to feel _bad_ about… well, correcting her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever met somebody quite so _earnest_ as Ruby Rose.  
  
That was also something that Blake wasn’t sure about. Sisters they may be, but Ruby and Yang had different last names, and it was a _little_ confusing. It also felt like something she probably shouldn’t ask about, which meant that it would remain a mystery for now. She’d only known the two of them for three days… definitely not soon enough to be asking personal questions like that.  
  
“What makes you say that?” Blake asked, waving at the auditorium before them. “I thought we were having combat class, but instead we’re just… sitting here.”  
  
“What do you—oh right, forgot!” Yang reached up and tapped a fist on her head with a wink. “So, occasionally we get footage from Huntsmen and Huntresses that gets played for us—all of us, for every year at Signal—and Dad and Uncle Qrow use it as a teaching tool. Last year we watched the singles tournament of the Vytal Festival. Makes me wonder what we’ve got today?”  
  
“Ooh, what if it’s something from Uncle Qrow’s mission?” Ruby asked, stars in her eyes. “Oh, oh, or maybe it’s from—”  
  
“Alright kids, settle down!” Mr. Xiao Long walked out in front of everyone and clapped his hands. “I know, we don’t normally get stuff this early, but sometimes it pays to have friends in high places. I got an email from Headmaster _Ozpin_ this morning, from Beacon. Show of hands, how many of you want to go to Beacon?”  
  
Pretty much every single hand in the auditorium raised. Yang’s shot high, and Ruby was quite literally vibrating in excitement as she raised her hand high. Blake raised her own, though it was with a bit of bemusement; she was, after all, already accepted, hard as it was to believe sometimes.  
  
“Well have we got a treat for you. Beacon’s first years just had their combat midterms, and now _we_ get the footage. So if you want to see how much further you have to go to reach the level of a Beacon student, pay attention!”  
  
With that, Mr. Xiao Long pressed play, and the footage began. Text ran across the screen: _Coco Adel v. Fox Alistair_. Blake felt her eyes widen in recognition, and settled back to watch the match.  
  
“Oooh my goodness is that a _minigun_!?” Ruby exclaimed as the footage rolled.  
  
“Yes,” Blake said. “It’s also a purse.”  
  
“ _Damn_ ,” Yang said with a whistle. “A minigun into a purse? That’s _clutch_.”  
  
Ruby looked at Yang. Blake also looked at Yang. The two of them smacked her upside the head, and shared a chuckle as they did.  
  
The commentary continued as the matches kept going, with quite a bit of heckling from the peanut gallery. Blake could only frown, though; Coco and Fox had gone first, and she knew from her brother what the partner pairings were, so where was Velvet and Noah’s match?  
  
The answer came eventually: they were saving the best for last.  
  
 _Velvet Scarlatina v. Noah Belladonna_ , the text said.  
  
“Wait, Belladonna?” Yang asked. “Blake… are you _related_ to him?”  
  
“That’s my brother,” she said with a shrug.  
  
“Your brother goes to _Beacon_!?” Ruby yelled, leaning over Yang’s back to talk to Blake. “Blaaaaaake, why didn’t you say anything!?”  
  
“You didn’t ask?” Blake answered. “Now shush, I wanna watch this!” The fight began, and Blake couldn’t help the surprise she felt watching Velvet… well, _trounce_ her brother. There really wasn’t any other way to put it. She’d seen Velvet in action back in Bearded Bay, and she knew how her brother fought better than anyone else… but watching the two of them like this was something else entirely.  
  
“What the heck is that weapon!?” Ruby said, eyeing the hard light constructs the recording of Velvet tossed around on-screen.  
  
“Screw that! Blake, what the _heck_ is your brother’s Semblance!?”  
  
“... really wanna know?” The two of them nodded at the same moment that the image changed to show Velvet blowing Noah away with a pair of explosive arrows, and Blake sighed. “Velvet’s Semblance copies fighting styles and her weapon copies weapons. And Noah’s Semblance lets him copy Semblances.”  
  
“Seriously?” Yang said, dumbfounded. “That is _nuts_!” Then she winced, hissing. “Ooh, too bad Blakey, your brother lost!”  
  
“Please don’t call me that,” she said, giving Yang a side-eye. “Not even Noah—” Blake glanced back at the screen at that instant, and felt her jaw drop.  
  
The footage had continued just long enough to show Velvet pick Noah up… and kiss him. Straight on the lips. In front of everyone.  
  
And now the footage had been shown to everyone. But Blake wasn’t thinking about that.  
  
She was too busy thinking about just how much she was going to tease Noah. And as she whipped out her Scroll, she figured she may as well start.  
  
 _> Noah, I’m pretty sure the saying is ‘cat got your tongue’, not ‘bunny’._  
  
Up in front of everybody, Mr. Xiao Long coughed.  
  
“Well, that was… not _quite_ how I expected that to end!” He was met with a round of chuckles. “Anyways. For tomorrow, I want each of you to pick one of the matches, and give me a minimum two-page analysis of how you think a rematch between the two of them would go.”  
  
Blake’s Scroll buzzed, and as she pulled it out, Yang leaned over one shoulder, and Ruby got up to lean over the other.  
  
 _> Haha, very funny. Who told you, Fox?  
It was Fox, wasn’t it._  
  
“You wanna tell him?” Yang asked.  
  
“Hmm… nah,” Blake said. “Funnier if he keeps guessing.”  
  
 _> Blake. Blake, c’mon. Was it Fox?_  
  
“You’re right,” Yang said. “This _is_ funnier!”  
  
The three girls shared a laugh as Blake’s Scroll kept buzzing. Was it a little mean-spirited? Well, yes, Blake had to admit it was. But how often did the little sister get to tease her older brother? She had to take the opportunity while it was available. And besides, it _was_ funny.  
  
 _> Blakey…_  
  
“Aww, he calls you that too!”  
  
“Oh _shut up_ …”

*** * * * ***

  
“Well, this is a surprise!” The large bearded man turned from his workstation, a hand going to the control panel on his walker-chair to steer it around. “Not often you visit me down here in Mantle, James.”  
  
“I have it on good authority that the people of Mantle see me as somewhat… aloof, to put it lightly.” General James Ironwood stepped through the doorway and into Pietro Polendina’s clinic proper, looking over the interior. Like all buildings in Mantle, it had a bit of a run-down quality—something that James had noticed was eerily prevalent throughout Mantle. It stood in stark contrast to the sleek, sharp lines and pristine cleanliness of Atlas, and in ways that had begun to make him uncomfortable. His mind flashed back to reports of Grimm presence in the area, both location and magnitude of incursions. Those reports, combined with the state of Mantle, started to make a disturbing amount of sense.  
  
“I’m not going to lie to you, James. Public opinion of Atlas, and especially of you, is not positive.” Pietro sighed, guiding his walker over to another terminal in the corner. “They see all these expenditures going to the military, to new robots and soldier equipment, and then they compare that to the living conditions down here. And what’s more, they don’t _see_ any of the results of those military advancements. As far as Mantle is concerned, they’re paying taxes, and not seeing anything in return.”  
  
“That’s part of why I came to see you.” James followed Pietro, looking at the figure within the pod in his laboratory. It held the figure of a young teen girl, with red hair and brilliant, glowing green eyes. “How is she, by the way?”  
  
“Penny’s coming along wonderfully!” Pietro gushed, every inch the proud father. “We’re still working out the kinks with some of her power channels and servomotors, but she’s managed to keep active for three and a half hours now. I read her a book, showed her how transistors work, taught her to cook pasta… I’m so proud of her.” The smile on his face faded a bit as he pressed a hand to the glass. “I worry she’ll never be ready for what we have planned for her. And I wonder if it’s fair of us to bring her into the world like this, and just expect her to take that burden. We’re not giving her a chance to just… _live_ , are we?”  
  
“Would that this world was kinder. That’s not the life we lead though.” James looked into the mechanical girl’s unseeing eyes, knowing that despite how wide her eyes were, the girl was in a sort of ‘sleep mode’, as unaware of the world as an ordinary sleeping girl would be. “But maybe we can make things easier for her. Did you get my message, Pietro?”  
  
“I did.” Pietro’s walker returned to his primary work terminal, where he pulled up numerous windows. “How certain are we, really?”  
  
“As certain as we can be without seeing him alive and well for ourselves,” James said. “The source was… _convincing_. They knew things. They knew about _Penny_ , Pietro.”  
  
“But we’re the only two who Penny has even _met_ ,” Pietro said, eyes widening. “How is that even possible?”  
  
“A glimpse at the future,” James revealed. “Or—well, it would be more accurate to say _a_ future. One that can’t happen anymore. But that doesn’t mean we can rest on our laurels, especially when presented with something that we _can_ do.”  
  
“Such as Watts,” Pietro continued for him. “James, it’s going to take some time for anyone to undo whatever backdoors into the system Arthur left behind, and that’s assuming I have multiple people helping. I don’t think I can do that on my own, not if I still want to bring Penny online and let her start living her life.”  
  
“That’s why we’re _not_ removing his backdoors,” James said. “We just need to identify them, and make sure we know _exactly_ what’s happening when they’re used.”  
  
“... you want to bait a trap,” Pietro said, realization dawning. “The idea has merit; if we aren’t removing whatever openings and vulnerabilities Arthur left behind, then it would take a fraction of the time. Identifying a backdoor is a lot easier than patching it out, and setting a script to monitor when it’s been used is—”  
  
“It can’t just monitor use,” James interrupted. “It has to also log any changes made or actions taken, along with some way to instantly reverse anything that’s done via the backdoor.”  
  
“A little bit more difficult. That said…” Pietro’s eyes fell onto where Penny rested in her stasis pod. “It helps that I have somebody who could walk around cyberspace like it was a real place. The way her consciousness interacts with code… it’s _marvelous_ to behold.”  
  
“I suppose so,” James said. “Let me know if there’s anything you need from me to make this happen, and tell me the instant it’s done.”  
  
“You think you can lure Watts out?” Pietro asked.  
  
“And help Mantle in the process,” James said, looking out the window of the Polendina Clinic. “After all, there’s a _costly_ project currently going through R&D before going to production… and it has Watts’ fingerprints all over it. It wouldn’t be hard to push back production, and leak rumors of a complete redesign, owing to the _incompetence_ of a now-disgraced programmer.”  
  
“The Paladin project,” Pietro said, his voice in a whisper. And then, he smiled. “And how will you be helping Mantle?”  
  
“I can offer all the opportunities I like,” James said with a sigh. “It doesn’t matter if the people are too suspicious to accept it, though. We need to start at the base level. Infrastructure upgrades, basic quality of life improvements.”  
  
“I can ask around,” Pietro offered. “Make a list of what the people most want or need.”  
  
“That would be greatly appreciated,” James said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he realized just how much work this would be. “It’s going to take time, but… baby steps.”  
  
“Baby steps,” Pietro agreed. “The people of Mantle will see what you’re doing for them.”  
  
“I hope they do, Pietro,” he said. “I just worry that anything I do might be too little, too late.

*** * * * ***

  
Saturday dawned, and in the intervening days, I still hadn’t managed to learn who let Blake know about my date with Velvet. And the exact circumstances surrounding it. It was a little humbling being on the other side of the teasing sibling dynamic, but I was getting a little sick of it. Little sisters shouldn’t be teasing their older brothers, damn it! Of course, I may have just been saying that because I was an older brother being teased by his little sister, but, eh… details.  
  
I still blamed Fox for somehow letting that info slip. He could deny it all he liked, but from the shape of his surface thoughts when he comes back to the room, I _know_ he’s up to more than just studying or sleeping at odd hours. He’s been spending time with someone, and been _remarkably_ cagey about who that somebody was, to the point that even _Coco_ didn’t know who. Which was impressive, because if there was one thing I’d learned about that dynamic, it was that Fox was horrible at keeping secrets from Coco. Secret stash of spicy potato chips? Found. Hadn’t actually done his homework and was literally reading the answers from somebody’s mind? Found, also impressive, but creepy as hell. Stained Coco’s favorite jeans?  
  
We didn’t hear from Fox for five hours after _that_ one came out.  
  
I’d rather not think about what _exactly_ happened to Fox during that five hour period, and figured it would be hypocritical of me to be prying into Fox’s secrets (a booty call, maybe?) while simultaneously getting angry at him for spilling the details of my personal life. And besides, today was going to be a good day. Saturday mornings at Beacon’s cafeteria were always a good event: they broke out the thick-cut bacon and waffle irons on the weekends, so I’d had an _enormous_ … brunch, it was almost eleven, so it was brunch, not breakfast. Anyway, Velvet and I had our date later today, and—  
  
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. Now I’m anxious, because of _course_ I had to go and think about that. _Shit_. Okay Noah, calm the fuck down. You don’t have to worry, Coco already told you that she and Velvet were the ones planning things, and that, and I quote, “if your ‘manly pride’ is injured by the girl taking the guy out on a date, remember that you’re _taking her to your hometown, and to meet your parents_ , in two months”. My retort that she, Fox, and Blake were all coming along fell on deaf ears.  
  
Even so, I was still anxious. What if this went horribly? Velvet and I were still partners, and had to be for the next four years. I don’t want everything to turn into a horrible, awkward mess between us. I mean, I like her. I really, really do. She’s a sweetheart, cute as a button, and her accent does _things_ to me that are best not described in polite company—and _especially_ not within earshot of my sister, though whether that’s to preserve her innocence (hah!) or because she _already_ has enough teasing material is still a toss-up. At the same time, my thoughts also started to spiral in a negative direction—what if I’m not _good enough_ for her? I like her, and I know she likes me, but some small part of my mind can’t help but put myself down, say that she’s just settling, that she can do so much better than me. That she deserves better than somebody who spent the better part of four years running and hiding from his problems, and justified it all with the fucking moral high ground. It’s stupid, I know. But I couldn’t help it. I’d spent almost a full damn year in a depressive spiral of self-pity and self-loathing, and those thought patterns have a way of creeping back up on you if you’re not careful, even— _especially_ when they’re not warranted.  
  
These thoughts and more ran through my mind as I walked back from the cafeteria, my previous good mood all but _ruined_. I came to my team’s dorm and walked in… only to pause as I saw my duffel bag sitting atop my bed, filled with some, not all, of my carefully-folded clothes.  
  
“Uh…” I pointed at the duffel, and then gave a very pointed look at Coco, who stood in front of mine and Velvet’s shared closed. “The heck?”  
  
“Oh good, you’re back.” Coco walked over to _my_ bed, zipped up _my_ duffel full of _my_ clothes, and pressed it carefully into my arms. “Here’s some acceptable clothing options, make sure you pick something that actually _goes_ together. Now fuck off until it’s date time.”  
  
“... uh, this is _my room_ too,” I said, shifting the duffel in my grip—or trying to, at least, because Coco stopped what I was doing and reset my arms so everything lay flat. “And Vel and I aren’t going out until early evening. Where _exactly_ am I supposed to spend the next _six hours_?”  
  
“I dunno,” she shrugged. “But _not here_.” With that, Coco pushed me back out the door, and slammed it shut in my face. I reached out to open the door again, only to find that I couldn’t push it open; Coco had probably wedged a chair under the doorknob to keep it closed. I _could_ use Prof. Goodwitch’s Semblance to open the damn thing… but I am not an idiot, and I rightfully fear the wrath of Coco Adel.  
  
“Locked you out, huh?” I turned around to see Moira leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of her unzipped red hoodie. She favored me with a smile, then pushed off the wall to grab the duffel from my hands. “Wanna crash in BLGR’s room for a bit?”  
  
“And if the rest of your team objects?” I asked.  
  
Moira looked at me. Then she smirked, and red lightning arced off of her.  
  
“Fair enough,” I shrugged. She led me two doors down before stopping at one, which she opened and _slammed_ into the inside wall.  
  
“Oi, Moira, quit slamming the damn door!” A voice yelled from inside the room.  
  
“Yeah? Ya can’t hear _shit_ over the music!” Moira yelled back. I blinked, then paid attention, and sure enough: music. It wasn’t anything I recognized, but it did sound like… oh lord, it sounded like _bluegrass_. Team BLGR, ‘Bluegrass’... was playing bluegrass music in their dorm. “Anyway, we got company!”  
  
“Who?” A different voice from the first asked. A moment later, Gavin Greenbelt peeked out from where he was and through the doorway. I waved around my duffel bag.  
  
“I’ve been kicked out while Coco gets Velvet ready for the date,” I groaned. “A date that’s not for _six hours_.” Lance peeked out immediately after, and shared a look with Gavin. The two of them exchanged sagely nods, then turned back to the door and waved me inside.  
  
“I know the feeling all too well,” Gavin said, giving me a pat on the back while Lance grabbed my duffel and dropped it on his bed. A bed that, I noticed, was the middle of three on one side, with the final bed separated by a dresser. From the red sheets and the dog plushy on the bed, I gathered that the single, separate bed was Moira’s. “Younger twin sisters. Sometimes I think they had a _little_ too much fun prepping for dates, and not enough on the date itself.”  
  
“Tell me about it,” I grumbled. “My sister’s been giving me shit _all week_.”  
  
A sharp blatt of a horn drew my attention to Tristan, who sat at a table facing the same wall as the door. I hadn’t seen him when I came in, and he hadn’t said a _word_.  
  
“Yeah,” Lance said, his tone agreeing with whatever it was Tristan _hadn’t_ said. “Didn’t know you had a sister. What’s she look like?”  
  
I pointed a finger at Lance.  
  
“No,” I said.  
  
He stared at me. I stared at him. He shared a look with Gavin, then went back to staring at me. I extended my claws, and kept staring at him.  
  
“... fine,” Lance said. “Your sister’s off limits.”  
  
“Damn straight,” I said.  
  
“But we do get to _meet_ your sister, right?” Moira asked, slinging an arm around my shoulders… which she needed to be half-standing on the bed to do, given I have a foot of height on her.  
  
“Eventually,” I hedged. “Anyway, I now need to… ugh.” I unzipped the duffel and looked inside, paying attention to Coco’s handpicked selection. “Figure out what I’m wearing on the date. And kill half the day. _Ugh_ …”  
  
I heard a sound from Tristan’s corner of the room, and turned to see him playing a violin. A normal one, this time. He stopped and looked at me, shrugged, then picked up a clarinet instead. I looked closer and saw… let’s see. Violin, flute, clarinet, trombone, small saxophone, something else I couldn’t recognize…  
  
“Do you play _all_ of those?” I asked Tristan. He nodded, then swapped the clarinet out for the flute, and played a few notes on that too. I turned to Moira, an eyebrow raised. “Is he _always_ like this?”  
  
“Yup,” she said. “Doesn’t talk much, even to us. He has his reasons, so.” I shrugged. Bit odd, but… okay.  
  
“As for what you’re wearing,” Lance said, staring into my duffel bag as Gavin unzipped it. “Let’s see, we’ve got some good options here…” He reached in and pulled out a few things, and Gavin did the same. The two of them looked at what the other held, and through some unspoken communication, began to pass articles of clothing between the two.  
  
“What are they doing?” I whispered to Moira, even as I watched.  
  
“Beats me,” she said. “They know this shit better than I do.”  
  
“If somebody didn’t put a stop to it, you’d be wearing that damn hoodie of yours every single day,” Gavin interjected. “It doesn’t go with _everything_ , Moira.”  
  
“They know fashion better than you do, huh?” I couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “Remind me to sic Coco on these two next time there’s a clearance sale.”  
  
Gavin and Lance adopted identical haunted expressions.  
  
Tristan’s sudden contribution of eerie flute music—and I didn’t know such a thing even existed—had Moira and me in _stitches_. Don’t get me wrong, the not-talking thing was still a little odd, especially for a team leader. But his comedic timing was _on point_.

*** * * * ***

  
The passage of the rest of the morning, and most of the afternoon, found me standing at the bullhead landing, waiting for Velvet to show up. Moira and the rest of Team BLGR had tried to insist that they come along to the landing for moral support, but the moment I saw Tristan picking up the saxophone I put the kibosh on that. He may have done it to his team, but my life was not going to be plagued by incidental music.  
  
Surprising as it may seem, Gavin and Lance were a huge help when it came to picking out something to wear. The two of them agreed very quickly that dark purple was my color (which I could’ve told them, it _is_ the color of my Aura…), and picked out a deep, royal purple button-up. I had a black undershirt on beneath it, and rolled the sleeves to my elbows. They’d had me pair that with very light khakis, so light they were almost white, and Lance let me borrow a nice pair of brown loafers to finish off the ensemble. All in all, it looked… pretty nice, actually.  
  
Just to the side at the landing, one of the bullheads to and from Vale was just arriving. I watched as it began its descent, wondering when Velvet would get here, and trying to calm that pit of anxiety forming in my stomach. I… look, call me a traditionalist, but part of me felt very _weird_ , letting Vel handle the plans. I know, antiquated, but still.  
  
“Noah! Over here!” I perked up on hearing Velvet’s voice, turned to respond… and [felt my jaw drop](https://imgur.com/mEO8x2u).  
  
She had on a really pretty white blouse, which was… I think the term is ‘ruffled’? I don’t know, not certain. She paired that with a chocolate brown, high-waisted pleated skirt, with either a really light red or a really dark pink in the pleats, her emblem proudly displayed on the left side of her waist. Under that she had on a pair of leggings or tights, and a nice pair of flats rounded off the ensemble. She rounded off the look with some light makeup, or at least what _looked_ , to me, like light makeup. I could see eyeliner and eyeshadow, along with some color on her lips.  
  
“Well?” Velvet asked. She stopped in front of me and did a little twirl before giving me an expectant look, one ear bending down inquisitively. I worked my jaw a few times, trying to find the right words to say. Velvet just laughed at my speechlessness and brought out her camera, which she used to snap a photo of me before I could get myself back under control. “That one’s being saved for later!~”  
  
“Please don’t show Blake,” I found myself saying, then mentally cursed when Velvet’s smile widened and she hid it behind her camera. “You’re going to.”  
  
“Of course!” Velvet put the camera away in her purse… which may have been one of Coco’s purses, now that I thought about it, and walked over to me. I extended an arm for her to take, and instead she grasped my hand in hers, twining our fingers together. I couldn’t help the slight hitch in my breath when she did this, nor the heat rising in my cheeks at her forwardness.  
  
“So, um.” Yes, very eloquent Noah, now how about you get your head back in gear and _try again_? “Where to?”  
  
“Well, how does an early dinner sound?” Velvet asked. “Ever had Vacuan?”  
  
“No,” I confessed. “Was always too worried I’d find sand in my food, especially since people say that really _authentic_ Vacuan always has it.”  
  
“Whoever told you that was… probably telling the truth, actually. Who _did_ tell you that?” Velvet asked. I suppressed a gulp; I’d rather _not_ tell her that it was _Sienna fucking Khan_ who’d offered me that pearl of wisdom.  
  
“A family friend,” I offered, giving as much of a non-answer as possible while still answering her question. She gave me a look, then leaned in and lifted one ear to flick me on the nose with it.  
  
“Fine, don’t say it,” she said. “You’ll tell me eventually.”  
  
“Knowing who I’m talking about, it’s far more likely we get to Menagerie and there she is, stealing my parents’ alcohol and laying on the couch,” I said. “And before you ask, she babysat Blake and me. I’m not introducing you because she has the _baby photos_.”  
  
“But I _want_ the baby photos!” Velvet whined. “You and Blake were probably so _cute_!”  
  
“We were babies,” I deadpanned. “Of course we were cute.”  
  
 _“Last call for the 5:15 bullhead to Vale!”_  
  
“Oh, we need to get that!” Velvet tugged on our clasped hands and away we went, boarding the bullhead maybe thirty seconds before the onramp closed. The two of us got a few _looks_ from other passengers, mostly scowls at Velvet’s ears and a few disgusted sneers that followed once their eyes drifted to our clasped hands. I bristled, but Velvet rubbed circles on the back of my hand with her thumb, taking the negative attention with a nonchalance I wouldn’t have expected of her even two and a half months ago. The difference between the meek, timid Velvet I met then and this self-assured, confident girl was incredible.  
  
On the same token though, I was probably a changed man from then. Just a few months ago, I’d been very passive, all too willing to go with the flow and just let things happen around me, perfectly happy to just sit on Menagerie and let the world pass me by. I’d been wallowing in failure, letting that one fuck-up define me. I squeezed Velvet’s hand, thinking of just how different things would be if things hadn’t happened the way they did, and if Sienna hadn’t inadvertently lit a fire under my ass.  
  
Velvet and I didn’t talk while on the bullhead; it was just a bit too noisy for that, what with both the roar of the engines and the background chatter of the other dozen or so people on-board. Velvet’s hearing was sensitive, but it could also get overwhelmed, and she spent most of the short flight with her ears lowered against her head as she leaned up against me, our hands still clasped from when she’d first taken mine in hers. I couldn’t help the small smile, even though my arm was starting to get a little stiff from the position. She was clearly enjoying it… and I had to admit, so was I.  
  
The bullhead landed, and the two of us were among the first to disembark. From there, I let Velvet take the lead, and she tugged me along on a southern heading.  
  
“So where are we headed, exactly?” I asked, making note of the streets and neighborhoods we walked past. The bullhead landing to Beacon was in a nice part of town—and by nice, I mean _old money_ nice—so while it was disappointing that the two of us got more than a few sour looks from the locals for being Faunus (I caught some of the glares too, so I assume they were being similarly racist in assuming that only another Faunus would want to be seen with Velvet), it wasn’t surprising. As we walked though, the neighborhood and especially the passersby began to change: things became a little less pristine, a little more well-worn, and a larger proportion of the locals were Faunus.  
  
“It’s a small Vacuan restaurant in the Faunus Quarter,” Velvet told me, favoring me with a smile. “I… I know we shouldn’t be afraid to branch out, but since it’s the first time that it’s just the two of us going out, I figured a little comfort couldn’t hurt.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” I said to assuage her. “I know what you mean.”  
  
As much as it stung, I couldn’t disagree. Vale was more progressive than Atlas, but as far as ubiquity of Faunus acceptance went, it wasn’t Vacuo, it wasn’t the frontier, and it _definitely_ wasn’t Menagerie. Say what you will about Vacuo’s lawlessness, but they at least tended to ignore racial lines. And on the frontier, racism was negativity, negativity brought Grimm, and Grimm meant death. They couldn’t _afford_ to be racist out there. And Menagerie… well, Vel would be getting a taste of Menagerie hospitality soon enough, wouldn’t she? But this wasn’t Vacuo, or the frontier, or Menagerie. This was Vale.  
  
And while it wasn’t _officially_ called the Faunus Quarter anymore, not since the end of the Great War, but this part of Vale had been known by that name for longer than people had called it the Laurel Quarter.  
  
After about fifteen minutes of walking in companionable silence, we arrived at the restaurant, a small little hole-in-the-wall called Sidewinder’s Shelter. I opened the door for the two of us, and we were met at the front by an upbeat host, his complexion immediately identifying him as Vacuan.  
  
“Welcome to Ssssidewinder’sss!” The sibilant sound he made when talking, combined with the forked tongue I saw between words, was more than enough to tell me what kind of Faunus he was. “Jussst the two of you?”  
  
“Yep!” Velvet said, ears perking up as she did.  
  
“Right thisss way.” The host picked up a pair of menus and guided us to a table for two, roughly in the middle of the restaurant, up against a wall. I pulled Velvet’s chair out for her, a wooden number with a cushion on the seat and a wicker back, and then sat down in my own. “Your ssserver will be with you sssoon!” With that, the snake Faunus left us to our own devices. I flipped open the menu, scanning through the options before I noticed that Velvet hadn’t even opened hers.  
  
“I’m guessing you’ve been here before,” I said. She gave a bit of a sheepish chuckle, her ears bending in half as she tapped the menu.  
  
“Was a bit of a regular actually,” she told me. “Less so in the last six months. The host must be newer if he didn’t recognize me.” She gestured at the menu. “Look at the bottom of the first page.”  
  
I looked where she suggested, and couldn’t help the snicker at what I read there.  
  
 _All dishes are served without ‘Vacuo Spice’ unless specifically requested. If you have to ask what ‘Vacuo Spice’ is, please do not request it._  
  
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” I scanned the menu, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Lots of meats, heavily spiced meats at that. Stews. Flatbreads. Couscous?  
  
Well, that answered that. Except… I looked up at Velvet.  
  
“I have _no idea_ what to get,” I told her. “I don’t even know what half of this is supposed to be.”  
  
“Well…” She leaned in over the table, resting her chin lightly on the back of her hand, one ear lowered, the other upraised. “You could always let me pick for us?”  
  
“A tempting proposition.” I closed my menu, rested an elbow on the table, and let my head fall into that arm’s upraised hand. “Alright. I’ll bite. Surprise me.”  
  
“I’m _so_ glad you agreed!” Velvet flipped her menu open, checking through the options. “Let me see, that one would—”  
  
“Hi, welcome to Sidewinder’s!” A new voice broke in, and I saw Velvet’s ears perk up at the sound of an accent rather similar to her own. “Have you—oh, Velvet! Hi!”  
  
“Savannah!” Velvet spun in her chair, greeting the waitress with a bright, beaming smile. I took a look, and my eyes slid past her dirty-blonde hair and amber eyes to the lion’s tail swaying behind her. “Oh, it’s been too long; how have you been? Did you get into Beacon? And who’s this with you?”  
  
“I did!” Velvet pulled out her Scroll and proudly flipped to the electronic student ID application, and showed it to Savannah, who made sounds of excitement. “And this is my teammate, partner… a-and date, Noah Belladonna.”  
  
“Pleasure to meet you,” I said, extending my hand. I didn’t miss the reaction to hearing my last name, though: the lioness Faunus’s eyes went wide for a split second, and her expression became _very_ carefully schooled. I felt a bit of worry at that reaction, and it wasn’t unfounded. There were generally three reactions from Faunus who recognized the Belladonna name: either respect because of my father’s position as Chieftain, disdain and distrust due to my family’s connection to the White Fang, or worst of all, camaraderie that _assumes White Fang ties_. And I didn’t know which one I was seeing.  
  
“Um, y-yeah!” She turned towards Velvet, clearly wanting to say something, and the sudden about-face had clearly put Velvet on edge as well.  
  
“I’m not White Fang,” I said, getting it out there immediately. Velvet crossed her arms and _glared_ at Savannah, ears flat against the back of her head. Savannah’s tail had extended straight up in surprise, her eyes wide at being called out. “I left the same time my father stepped down. That was _before_ the violence,” I pointed out.  
  
“I s-see,” Savannah said, tone aghast. “I am _so_ sorry. U-um, I’ll b-be right back!” With that, Savannah disappeared back into what I assumed was the kitchen, and I deflated with a sigh.  
  
“Every damn time,” I murmured, pinching the bridge of my nose. “At least this shit used to be positive, back when the White Fang meant something _good_.”  
  
“I’m sorry!” Velvet said, a lot of her earlier confidence practically disappearing into the ether. “I knew that might happen, but I still chose somewhere in the Faunus Quarter, and—”  
  
“Vel,” I interrupted. “Not your fault. It’s fine.”  
  
“But still—”  
  
“Sorry about that!” Savannah returned, a small tray in her hands. “Mint tea, on the house. My apologies for the assumption; you know what they say about those, yeah?”  
  
“It’s nothing, really!” I tried to wave it off. “Hardly the first time, trust me. You do get used to it.”  
  
“Yes, but you shouldn’t _have_ to get used to it, now should you?” Savannah said, setting the cups of tea down in front of Velvet and me. “We Faunus get enough of that from humans without needing it from each other. And I bet you get more of it from our own kind than most, what with being human-passing _and_ a Belladonna,” she said. “Enough of the dour topic though; Vel! You look like you’ve got something in mind!”  
  
“Oh, I do,” she said, giving a conspiratorial grin to the lioness Faunus. Velvet beckoned with a hand, then leaned in to whisper into Savannah’s ear, pointing out various things on the menu as she did. “And that’ll probably do it.”  
  
“Great!” Savannah flipped her little notepad closed. “I’ll tell the kitchen staff to get right on that.” With that, the waitress walked off towards what I assumed was the kitchen, tail swaying behind her as she left.  
  
“Should I be worried?” I asked Velvet.  
  
“Only if you suddenly decided you don’t like meat and fish,” she said with a cheeky grin, one that I answered with a smile of my own. “So Noah, I’m curious. What _was_ it like, growing up in the old White Fang?”  
  
I blinked, slightly stunned at the change of topic, before realizing that she did have a good reason to ask: my connection to the Fang had been brought up not five minutes prior.  
  
“It was… hm.” I paused to gather my thoughts, trying to find a good way to put it. “Well, the first thing to know is that we traveled. A _lot_. I’ve been to Vale, Mistral, and Atlas. Not Vacuo though; Mom would stay behind with Blake and me whenever the Fang went there. In between the organizing, recruiting, and demonstrations, we did go back to Menagerie. It’s where I was born, and ultimately where I’d say that I’m from, even though I spent the majority of my childhood on the road.”  
  
“And what about the people in the Fang?” she asked.  
  
“For the most part? Ordinary people,” I told her. “Most were just there for standard civil disobedience and general protest. Unfortunately, given that people tended to ‘look the other way’ when Faunus are the victims, not everyone could be purely pacifist. Some of us got trained how to fight, and both Blake and I had the distinct pleasure of learning to fight at the feet of Sienna Khan herself.”  
  
Velvet had been about to take a sip of her tea when I said that, and she froze still for a moment, ears popping straight up as her eyes went wide.  
  
“Are you serious? _Sienna Khan_ taught you to fight?” She said Sienna’s name in a whisper, and then paused, stopping to think for a moment. “Wait… when you said someone had the— _no_.”  
  
“Yes,” I confirmed.  
  
“ _Her_!?” Vel asked again, incredulous.  
  
“Her,” I confirmed again, expression carefully neutral. “Look… whatever you may think of her, and of the Fang under her direction, Dad trusted her with his children. And when he stepped down from leading the Fang, he again trusted her with his child.”  
  
“But what the White Fang is _doing_ —”  
  
“Leadership doesn’t equate to control, especially in an organization as decentralized as the Fang is,” I pointed out. “Trust me on this one? The _overwhelming majority_ of Sienna’s job is _damage control_. She’s stopped by Menagerie specifically to ask my father how to handle something she wasn’t sure about, and every time, it’s been _damage control_.”  
  
“That’s…” Velvet took a deep breath, and then a sip of her tea. “I still don’t like it.”  
  
“Neither do I,” I admitted. “Why do you think I’m not part of _her_ Fang? I agree with some of her politics, but her _methods_ are where we don’t see eye-to-eye, and that’s really the most important part.”  
  
“I can tell,” Velvet said with a smile. “You step up to defend people without a second thought, but you’re never actually _looking_ for a fight. You’ll finish one, but you don’t like being the aggressor, do you?”  
  
“Nope,” I agreed. “But how about some questions about _you_ , Vel?” I pointed at her, then to where our waitress had gone off to. “Definitely sounds like you have a Vacuan accent. How’d that come about, anyway?”  
  
“My father’s Vacuan,” she said. “He doesn’t go back there though, since he’s… well, that is to say—”  
  
“And the appetizer is here!” Savannah chose that moment to return, another tray in her hands. She placed a pair of bowls down in front of us. “This one’s a spiced butternut squash soup, Vacuo style! Don’t worry, not Vacuo Spice; I’m _from_ there and can’t stand it myself.” She shuddered, the fur along her tail fluffing up. “Anyway, enjoy!”  
  
I sampled the soup before digging in further, though once I realized it was _pretty damn good_ —and that it had a bit of a kick to it—I kept going. Velvet, on the other hand, went at the soup with gusto. She clearly knew what she was ordering, and had gotten it before.  
  
“So, what were you saying about your dad?” I asked Velvet.  
  
“Well,” she said, holding her spoon in hand. “Um…” She trailed off, staring at her soup. She wrinkled her nose in thought, then took a deep breath before meeting my eyes. “He’s human. Mum’s Faunus.”  
  
“That’s… huh,” I said. “I sense a story there.”  
  
“My father’s a photographer by trade,” she said. “Freelance. He’s done work for travel companies, weddings, private investigators, journalists… if somebody needed a photographer for something, he was available.”  
  
“Was your camera a gift from him, then?”  
  
“I-it was for my eighth birthday,” Velvet said, blushing. “A-anyway, he met Mum when on assignment in Mistral. He’d been hired by a wealthy family to take photos for their heir’s wedding. They had him arrive a few days early, and assigned him a ‘servant’ to help him out. That’s how he met Mum.”  
  
“I don’t like the way you said ‘servant’,” I told her. “And since indentured servitude was only abolished in Mistral six years ago…”  
  
“My mum may as well have been a slave,” Vel said. By now, she’d finished her soup, and I was glad for it, because she probably would have lost her appetite. “Dad was enamored with her, even though he was human and she was a Faunus. At the end of the job, he asked how much it would cost to buy out her contract of servitude. Dad spent the better part of two years saving, but he came back to Mistral for her, and they married two years later. Hugh and Sable Scarlatina.” She smiled, and pulled up a picture on her Scroll to show me. There was her father, a relatively average looking man, blonde hair and brown eyes, with deeply tanned skin. And then there was her mother: black hair, amber eyes, and alabaster skin, her black rabbit ears extending far above her head. Clearly Velvet was somewhere in the middle, and it was plain to see where her Faunus trait came from.  
  
“That’s why you don’t like Mistral much, huh?” I asked. “Reminds you of what your mom went through.”  
  
“I’d rather never go to Mistral if I don’t have to,” Velvet revealed. “Don’t get me wrong. I like some parts of the culture, and I _love_ their cuisine, especially since that’s most of what Mum makes. But I could do without the people who thought it was fine to force somebody into slavery by another name.”  
  
“And here we have Exhibit C: yet another reason my father founded the White Fang in the first place,” I grumbled. “Honestly, it’s starting to sound a bit like a broken record at this—”  
  
I felt a tug in my gut. My eyes shot wide and I froze, instantly reaching for Fox’s Semblance to scan the area.  
  
“Noah?” Velvet asked. “Is something wrong?”  
  
“I just picked up a new Semblance,” I told her, voice very low. I used Fox’s Semblance to scan the surface thoughts of the kitchen staff, and also look for people that were out of place in the restaurant… but found nothing. “Do you know if anyone working here has a Semblance that they use for cooking?”  
  
“Not that I know of,” she said. “What do we do?”  
  
“For now? Nothing,” I told her. “I don’t want to overreact if it ends up being nothing. Just relax, but keep your eyes peeled.”  
  
“Okay,” she said. Not a moment later, Savannah came by with yet another tray, and took our soup bowls away before starting to set more plates down on the table.  
  
“Alright Vel honey, we’ve got a tagine for you, a kefta tagine for your boy toy…” I blushed, even as she turned around to grab something more. “We’ve got some couscous for you again, and for Mr. Belladonna…”  
  
I smelled it before I saw it, and felt my mouth watering. She set down the plate, and I saw—  
  
“Baked sardines, stuffed with chermoula. I hope you’re not one of those people who says cilantro tastes like soap; if you are, let me know and I’ll get something else for you.”  
  
“No no, this is perfect!” I said, bringing up my napkin to wipe away a line of drool that managed to escape. I grabbed a sardine and dug in right away, practically moaning at how damn _good_ it was.  
  
“I think you made the right choice,” Savannah said to Velvet in a stage whisper.  
  
“I think so too,” Velvet stage-whispered back, the two of them sharing a laugh. I was a bit too busy _stuffing my face_ to really notice though.  
  
Dinner continued apace, with the two of us chatting about various topics. Velvet was an only child, with complications during the pregnancy making it risky for her mom to have any more kids. Her favorite camera lens was a macro lens, and she especially liked forced perspective in photography. Meanwhile, I told her about my favorite genres of book (urban fantasy and science fiction), and amused her with the fact that even though I’m a feline Faunus, I adore dogs, and often took advantage of the fact that I’m human-passing to pet every dog I saw.  
  
Eventually though, things must come to a close. When the check came, the two of us decided to be grown-ups about it… and play rock-paper-scissors for who was paying. Velvet won, of course, and she decided to emasculate me further by handling the bill herself. (No, she didn’t _really_ emasculate me, but I had to make the joke. And hey, Velvet thought it was funny, so that’s a win!)  
  
We wandered around town for a bit, and Velvet took some nice photos. Then she took a few photos of me, and I yoinked the camera to take a few of her back. We managed to make our way back to Beacon after about an hour of meandering, and the two of us stopped in front of our dorm room.  
  
“So…” I said. “Normally this would be where one of us says they had a great time and went inside, but… um.” I waved at the door, and specifically at the last two initials of the CFVN on its surface. “So… yeah.”  
  
“Well.” Velvet reached up, looping her arms around my neck. “I _did_ have a great time.” She pulled me down, taking the initiative away from me, and I found myself being pulled into a deep kiss. My arms snaked around her waist and held her close, and I acquiesced as her tongue licked at my lips, deepening our kiss even further. About a minute later the two of us came up for air, holding each other in our arms, big dopey grins on our faces.  
  
“How much you wanna bet Fox is trying to eavesdrop with his Semblance?” Velvet asked.  
  
“Hmm, I dunno,” I said. “Twenty lien says he wasn’t?”  
  
“Thirty says he was,” Velvet fired back. The two of us opened the door to our dorm room, and when our eyes fell on where Fox had his face buried in his hands, I had to grumble and pass a twenty lien card over to Velvet.  
  
Neither of us remembered the new Semblance I’d picked up at the restaurant until the next morning.  
  
Not until we saw the article in the morning news, talking about a robbery at the Dust shop across the street. The Dust shop whose silent alarm had gone off maybe two minutes after I’d felt a new Semblance.  
  
The Dust shop that Velvet and I walked right past as we left, and where we saw nothing amiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposting this over from SpaceBattles and Sufficient Velocity forums now that I've got enough to hopefully—HOPEFULLY—sate AO3's appetite for new fics. I waited until now because I've just finished my cat impression.
> 
> By that I mean I sat on a table, looked at the water glass that is canon, and did what any ordinary, reasonable cat would do.
> 
> I knocked the glass over.


End file.
